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CTa 


THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


T  S  ARTHUR'S   NEW   WORKS. 

I. — OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 
II. — LIGHT   ON  SHADOWED   PATHS. 
[II. — NOTHING  BUT  MONEY.      In  press. 


All  published  uniform  with  this  volume,  at  $1.50  each,  and 
sent  free  by  mail  upon  receipt  of  price, 

by 

Carleton,   Publisher, 
York. 


OUT   IN    THE    WOULD. 


BY 

T.  S.  ARTHUR, 

AUTHOR  OF  "LIGHT  ON  SHADOWHD  PATHS,"   ETC.   ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 

CARLE  TO 'JV,  PUBLISHER,  413  BROADWAY. 
M  DCCC  LXIV. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1804,  by 
G.   W.   CARLETOX, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of   the  Southern  District  of 
New  York. 


PS 


OUT  IN  THE  WORLD. 


CHAPTER  I. 


^DISCIPLINED,  wayward,  some- 
times  petulant  —  pure,  warm-hearted, 
loving.  Life  was  simple  feeling.  Such 
was  Madeline  Spencer  when  she  took 
upon  herself  the  vows  of  wifehood. 
Her  husband,  Carl  Jansen,  was  older 
by  five  or  six  years ;  a  young  man  of 
placid  exterior  and  thoughtful  habits, 
but  sensitive  and  proud.  He  had,  by 
long  continued  effort,  learned  to  gov 
ern  himself;  or,  in  exacter  phrase,  to 
hide  what  he  felt  from  observation  —  to  maintain  a  calm 
outside,  even  under  strong  interior  excitement.  He  was 
considerate  of  those  around  him,  as  well  from  naturally 
kind  feelings  as  from  a  certain  ground  of  principle ;  but, 
there  was  also  in  this  consideration,  a  desire  to  stand  well 
in  the  opinion  of  others:  This  love  of  approbation  had 
been,  in  fact,  a  strong  element  in  the  work  of  self  disci 
pline  which  had  for  years  been  in  progress. 


6  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

Jansen  was  selfish,  as  are  all  men,  no  matter  of  what 
culture  or  training,  who  have  simply  developed  on  the 
natural  plane  of  life  under  natural  motives.  He  had  con 
trolled  his  passionate  impulses,  not  because  they  were  evil 
in  themselves,  but  because  their  exhibition  would  shadow 
his  good  name,  or  hurt  his  worldly  interests.  He  was 
polite,  deferential,  calm,  orderly,  kind  ;  in  a  word,  gentle 
manly  in  his  whole  deportment;  but  not  from  Christian 
ethics.  It  was  not  because  he  desired  the  well  being  or 
happiness  of  others,  that  he  was  so  considerate  of  their 
comfort,  convenience,  or  pleasure.  It  is  questionable 
whether  he  ever  regarded  this.  How  will  it  appear?  — 
what  will  be  thought  ?  Herein  lay  the  boundary  of  mo 
tive  ;  but  not  the  conscious  boundary,  —  let  this  be  said  in 
Jansen's  favor.  He  thought  himself  better  than  he  was. 
We  say  it  not  in  reproach  —  he  did  not  know  himself. 

No  matter  to  what  extent  this  culture  of  man's  natural 
mind  may  go,  the  good  exterior  will  only  be  an  assumed 
beauty.  The  root  will  draw  nutrition  from  the  soil  of 
selfishness.  Out  in  the  world,  the  man  may  counterfeit 
the  saiutliest  virtues.  At  home,  he  will  be  what  he  is ; 
and  the  reactions  of  home,  if  against  his  weaknesses  and 
desires,  will  give  another  form  to  his  life  —  hard,  harsh, 
angry  ;  it  may  be  cruel.  He  will  not  prefer  another  to 
himself,  as  on  the  social  plane,  where  he  bids  for  fair  opin 
ions  ;  he  will  not  yield,  in  seeming  bland  good  nature,  the 
point  of  argument ;  will  not  consider  and  excuse  faults  of 
character  nor  read  human  nature  against  himself. 

Undisciplined,  wayward,  petulant,  yet  pure,  warm 
hearted  and  loving.  Such,  in  brief,  was  Madeline  Spencer 
when  she  became  Mrs.  Jansen.  And  the  young  husband 
was  exteriorly  placid  and  thoughtful,  but  sensitive  and 


OUT   IK   THE   WORLD.  7 

proud.  Such  unions  do  not  afford  large  promise  of  happi 
ness  ;  but  they  quicken  all  the  elements  of  life  —  give  rapid 
growth  of  character  —  and  make  men  and  women  stronger 
for  good  or  evil.  They  eliminate  the  saint  or  develop  the 
fiend. 

An  observer,  writing  in  a  kind  of  playful  seriousness,  on 
the  phenomena  of  love,  says  that  one  man  is  enamored  of 
a  curl,  another  of  a  graceful  ankle,  a  third  of  blue  or  brown 
eyes,  a  fourth  of  a  swan-like  neck,  a  fifth  of  a  Grecian  pro 
file,  and  so  on ;  the  real  character  and  quality  of  the  en 
chantress  rarely  if  ever  coming  into  view,  thus  making 
marriage  something  akin  to  blind  guess-work.  Alas  for 
many,  when  the  curl  loses  its  crisp  circles ;  when  the  an 
kle's  fine  symmetry  departs ;  when  the  blue  eyes  grow 
leaden, and  the  brown  eyes  swim  in  tears;  when  the  neck 
shrinks  into  lines  and  angles,  and  the  fine  profile  mocks  an 
expressionless  or  peevish  face ! 

It  was  the  beauty  of  Madeline  that  first  attracted  Jan- 
sen  ;  the  beauty  of  her  whole  face  when  life  flowed  into 
it  —  the  life  of  joy.  Her  complexion  was  of  that  pure, 
transparent  pink  and  white,  seen  occasionally,  and  always 
so  charming  if  accompanied  by  regular  features  ;  in  her  case 
made  more  striking  by  hazel  eyes,  close  brown  eyebrows, 
and  long  lashes  of  the  same  color.  If  the  eyes  had  been 
blue,  Jansen  might  not  have  been  captivated.  The  brown 
eyes  did  the  final  work.  Love  takes  for  granted  almost 
everything.  The  curl  represents  grace  of  mind ;  the  blue 
eyes  tenderness;  the  brown  eyes  depth  of  feeling  ;  the 
nobly  formed  neck  dignity  of  character  ;  the  clear  cut  pro 
file  internal  symmetry.  Love  takes  all  for  granted.  Nev 
er  questions  —  never  doubts ;  and  goes  blindly  to  the  al 
tar. 


8  OUT   IN   THE   WOULD. 

Undisciplined,  wayward,  and  sometime  petulant,  for  all 
the  pinky  flesh  and  chestnut  eyes !  Jansen  might  have  seen 
this ;  he  did  see  it  in  fact  —  but,  in  his  infatuation,  doubted 
the  evidence.  There  was  an  error  in  the  observation,  he 
thought,  some  false  adjustment  of  the  instrument.  It  was 
impossible  for  imperfections  like  these  to  dwell  in  a  cask 
et  so  fair  to  look  upon. 

After  the  wedding  day  —  after  the  honeymoon,  came 
the  sober  realities,  the  plain  facts  of  married  life  ;  arid  none 
escape  them.  The  worshiped  divinity  steps  down  from 
her  pedestal  and  becomes  a  woman ;  still  fair,  beloved,  and 
worshipped,  but  not  at  the  old  distance.  If  she  be  a  true, 
disciplined  woman,  unselfish  (in  the  ordinary  acceptance 
of  the  term,)  and  generously  inclined  to  minister  in  all 
things  to  her  husband's  happiness,  comfort,  and  conve 
nience,  there  will  be,  unless  he  is  a  tyrant  or  a  brute,  a 
home  in  which  peace  can  fold  her  wings.  But,  if  she  be 
not  so  disciplined  and  unselfish,  but  petulant,  wayward, 
thoughtless,  the  chances  are  all  on  the  other  side.  If, 
back  of  this  petulance,  and  thoughtless  ^waywardness,  lie 
purity,  truth,  and  a  generous  loving  nature,  the  husband 
will  be  equally  to  blame  with  the  wife,  if  clouds  instead 
of  sunshine  hang  over  their  dwelling  place  —  nay,  more 
to  blame ;  for  by  virtue  of  his  mental  constitution,  he  may 
lift  himself  into  regions  of  calm  thought  more  easily  than 
his  wife,  and  so,  rise  out  of  the  blindness  of  mere  impulse. 
She  loves  and  feels  most ;  he  dwells  most  in  thought  — 
and  should  let  reason  give  clear  sight  and  a  just  self  con 
trol. 

Now,  in  the  case  of  Jansen,  there  was,  as  we  have  seen, 
a  habit  of  self-control.  But,  we  have  seen  also,  that  this 
was  not  grounded  in  any  spiritual  motive ;  but  was  simply 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  9 

natural  —  that  is,  selfish.  He  loved  the  good  opinion  of 
others  —  liked  to  stand  fair  with  the  world ;  and  so  guard 
ed  himself,  lest  at  any  time  he  should  betray  unmanly 
weaknesses,  passion,  ill-nature,  or  hardness  of  character. 
The  self-control,  therefore,  was  not  a  restraint  of  wrong 
impulses,  lest  they  should  prove  harmful  to  others  ;  but  a 
restraint  lest  they  should,  through  some  reaction,  hurt  him 
self.  Just  so  far,  and  no  farther,  had  Carl  Jansen  gone  in 
the  great  work  of  soul-discipline,  at  the  period  of  his  mar 
riage.  As  for  his  beautiful  young  wife,  she  had  not  yet 
taken  her  first  lesson  in  self-command.  Her  impulses 
were  her  rulers.  As  she  felt,  so  she  acted.  Her  early 
training  had  not  been  wisely  ordered.  Her  father  had 
been  indulgent,  and  her  mother  blind  and  weak.  Natural 
ly  gifted,  her  mind  imbibed  rapidly,  and  she  was  better 
educated  than  most  young  women  of  her  age.  For  music 
she  had  a  passion.  She  performed  with  a  taste  and  skill 
rarely  acquired,  and  sang  with  a  richness  of  vocalization, 
and  absorbed  feeling,  that  always  drew  a  crowd  around 
her  when  in  any  large  company,  she  sat  down  to  the  piano. 
In  this  passion  for  music,  Carl  Jansen  had  no  share. 
A  few  notes,  or  a  few  bars,  when  they  first  struck  on  his 
ears,  came  in  waves  of  sweetness ;  but,  like  honey  to  the 
taste,  this  sweetness  soon  palled  on  the  sense.  After  a 
few  minutes,  he  would  fail  to  perceive  any  response  in 
his  soul ;  and  thought  would  wander  from  the  vibrant 
strings,  no  longer  discriminating  chords  or  passages,  and 
merely  dwelling,  half  conscious  of  their  presence,  in  a 
maze  of  sound,  that  distui-bed  rather  than  tranquillized  his 
feelings.  He  generally  experienced  a  sense  of  relief —  par 
ticularly  in  social  companies  —  when,  to  use  his  own 

1* 


10  OUT  IN  THE   WORLD. 

words,  "  the  piano  ceased  its  humdrumming."  He  had 
never  said  this  to  Madeline  before  marriage.  Oh  no. 
That  would  have  been  inconsistent  with  his  world-side 
character.  On  the  contrary,  he  affected  a  polite  enthusi 
asm  for  music,  and  would  stand,  as  if  entranced,  by  the 
piano,  asking  her  to  play  piece  after  piece,  even  while 
wearied  with  the  sound  of  jarring  chords,  and  impatient 
of  her  long-continued  beating  of  the  keys.  This  he  called 
politeness,  and  consideration  for  those  with  whom  we  as 
sociate.  It  was  on  the  plane  of  his  assumed  gentlemanly 
bearing  towards  the  world ;  but  its  mainspring  was  sel 
fishness.  He  was  enamored  of  the  maiden ;  he  was  the 
lover  and  the  wooer;  and  every  act  was  designed  to  con 
ciliate  her  favor  —  as  every  act  before  the  world  was  to 
win  the  world's  regard. 

Herein  lay  the  danger  to  happiness.  This  outside,  with 
Carl  Jansen,  did  not  present  the  real  man.  That  shrunk 
away  and  hid  itself  under  smoother  and  compliant  ex 
teriors — looked  out  stealthily  from  blinds  —  was  always 
standing  on  guard.  It  was  different  with  Madeline.  She 
had  no  concealments  —  never  tried  to  veil  her  petulance 
or  waywardness,  more  than  her  loving  impulses.  Every 
heart-beat  showed  itself  in  her  transparent  countenance. 
You  saw  the  state  of  her  feelings  in  her  eyes.  It  was  not 
a  mirror  only,  it  was  a  crystal  window.  You  could  look 
down  through  it  into  her  soul.  In  every  changing  state, 
the  past  state  with  her  was  forgotten  —  she  lived  so  whol 
ly  in  the  present.  She  was  pure  —  she  was  true ;  but 
ignorant  of  the  world,  impulsive,  wayward,  and,  for  lack 
of  discipline,  self-willed.  As  to  hereditary  quality  she 
was  a  better  woman  than  Jansen  was  a  man  —  more  sin- 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  11 

cere  —  less  concealed.  Yet,  with  all  this,  there  lay  unde 
veloped  with  her,  strength  of  character  —  power  of  en 
durance  ;  and  a  pride  not  easily  quickened,  but  having 
latent  elements  that,  once  infilled  with  life,  would  make 
her  inflexible  as  iron. 


CHAPTER  II. 


^FTER  the  wedding  day  —  after  the  hon 
eymoon  came  the  sober  reality,  the  plain 
facts  of  married  life ;  and  none  escape 
them.  The  worshiped  divinity  steps 
down  from  her  pedestal,  and  becomes 
a  woman ;  still  fair,  beloved,  and  wor 
shiped,  but  not  at  the  old  distance. 
We  repeat  these  unwelcome  sentences 
—  unwelcome  to  many,  because  the 
words  will  bear  to  them  a  meaning  be 
yond  their  literal  sense. 
It  was  not  long  before  the  divinity  of  Carl  Jansen's 
new  home  stepped  down  before  his  eyes,  and  revealed  her 
self  as  human,  in  whom  were  human  weaknesses  and  hu 
man  faults.  The  all-compliant  lover  was  not  merged, 
gracefully,  into  the  all-compliant  husband.  Why  should 
there  be  wooing,  after  winning  and  possession  ?  A  new 
order  of  things  must  follow  marriage ;  an  entire  change 
of  relation  between  the  woman  and  the  man.  Before, 
the  will  of  Madeline  was  his  law ;  now,  his  will  must  be 


OUT   IN   TUE   WOELD.  13 

her  law.  There  is  a  vast  difference  between  the  two  rela 
tions  ;  and  the  substitution  of  the  one  for  the  other  cannot 
take  place  without  a  jar.  If  Jansen  had  been  less  selfish, 
and  thence  clearer  seeing  —  able  to  change  in  perception, 
his  stand  point  for  that  occupied  by  his  young  wife  — 
the  shadow  of  a  cloud,  dark  enough  to  hold  a  tempest  in 
its  bosom,  need  not  have  fallen  so  quickly  upon  their  lives. 
But,  he  had  a  cold,  inflexible  nature,  which,  to  the  world, 
veiled  itself  under  warm  and  soft  exteriors  —  and  had 
so  veiled  itself  to  the  maiden,  Madeline.  To  her,  he  had 
ever  seemed  warm  and  yielding.  Nothing  hard,  icy,  or 
exacting,  had  appeared  in  all  the  happy  months  of  waiting 
for  the  blissful  day  that  was  to  make  them  one.  She  felt 
that  he  was  all  tenderness,  all  love ;  and  that  she  could 
rest  on  his  manly  strength,  and  hide  herself,  like  a  tired 
child,  when  life  had  weary  or  sad  moments,  in  sweet  aban 
donment  on  his  breast. 

Alas  for  her  disappointment !  She  awoke  with  a  start  — 
a  shock  —  a  wound  — arose  shuddering,  yet  in  anger,  and 
with  a  new  consciousness  of  strength.  There  had  been 
disturbances  in  her  sleep  —  a  troubled  sense  of  pain  and 
wrong  —  strange  dreams  that  hurt  and  frightened  her  — 
a  kind  of  vague  nightmare,  changing  all  at  once  to  a  gib 
bering  phantom  on  her  breast,  when  she  awoke  with  a  cry, 
—  awoke,  never  to  sleep  the  old  tranquil  sleep  again ! 

Let  us  come  to  particulars.  The  awaking  was  in  this 
wise.  Keep  in  mind  the  two  characters  with  which  we 
are  dealing.  The  one  undisciplined,  impulsive,  self-will 
ed,  independent ;  the  other  cold,  orderly,  inflexible,  and 
sensitive  to  the  world's  opinion.  How  will  it  appear? 
governed  his  life  in  its  social  aspect.  Is  it  right,  and 
agreeable  to  myself?  governed  hers.  She  rarely,  if  ever, 


14  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

thought  about  what  others  might  say  or  think  of  her  — 
while  he  felt  himself  to  be  under  constant  observation. 

It  was  five  months  after  their  marriage.     During  that 
time,  the  young  husband  had  been  gradually  changing  in 
the  e/es  of  his  wife,  and  putting  on  new  forms  of  charac 
ter.    The  honey-moon  had  scarcely  passed,  ere  a  jar  was 
felt.    Pain  and  surprise  followed  —  vague  questionings, — 
bewilderment,  doubt, —  Madeline  pondered  the  fact,  not 
comprehending  it  —  pondered  it  sitting  in  the  edge  of  a 
shadow  that  was  advancing,  black  and  cold  upon  her  life. 
Another  jar  —  more  questioning  —  deeper  bewilderment 
—  strange  doubts — the  shadow  still  advancing.   What  was 
meant  ?  What  portended  ?    She  had  entered  a  new  region, 
and  was  losing  her  way.    The  path  along  which  her  feet 
had  moved  in  dancing  measure,  grew  all  at  once  narrower, 
and  she  began  looking  to  her  steps ;  and  then,  as  her  eyes 
from  a  vague  instinct  of  danger,  ran  forwards,  the  path 
lost  itself  to  vision.     She  trembled  and  grew  afraid  — 
sat  'down  and  wept.     And  this  happened  ere  two  months 
had  passed  since  the  bridal  kiss  lay  sweet  upon  her  lips. 

How  imperfectly  do  we  understand  each  other.  We 
move  side  by  side,  dwell  in  the  same  household,  commune 
together,  enter  into  the  most  intimate  and  sacred  relations 
and  yet,  continually  misapprehend  and  falsely  interpret 
one  another.  Each  is  a  mystery  —  a  human  temple,  into 
the  penetralia  of  which  none  but  God  may  enter.  In  just 
the  degree  that  we  selfishly  live  our  own  lives  —  that  is, 
seek  our  own  pleasures,  and  do  our  own  will,  are  we  in 
danger  of  misapprehending  and  misinterpreting  others. 
Their  acts,  (all  we  really  see  of  them,)  if  they  fail  to  square 
with  our  rule  of  thinking  —  if  they  touch  our  sense  of 
propriety,  or  interfere  with  our  comfort  or  convenience, 


OUT   IN   THE   WOELD.  15 

are  read  against  them  as  signs  of  perverseness,  moral  de 
fection,  wrong  intent,  or  evil  desire ;  and  we  respond,  in 
our  action,  to  the  assumed  meaning  of  theirs. 

In  so  responding,  were  the  truth  really  known  to  us,  we 
should  find  ourselves  wrong  twice  in  three  times.  But 
we  too  rarely  get  down  to  the  truth  in  these  things.  Our 
reactions  upon  assumed  perverseness  or  evil,  are  met  by 
counter-reactions,  and  we  grow  blinder  and  falser  in  our 
judgments.  Pride  and  anger  rise  up  to  cloud  still  more 
our  better  reason,  and  too  often,  alas !  we  lift  the  hand 
to  punish  where  there  has  been  no  sin.  If  men  and 
women  made  it  a  rule  always  to  suppose  good  instead  of 
evil  touching  the  doubtful  actions  of  those  to  whom  they 
bear  intimate  relations,  there  would  be  peace  and  unity 
with  tens  and  tens  of  thousand,  who  now  perversely  wound 
and  hinder  one  another — turning  the  honey  of  their  lives 
into  vinegar  and  gall. 

Both  Jansen  and  his  wife  were  strongly  marked  as  to 
individuality  of  character,  living  so  completely  in  their 
own  ideas  of  life,  as  to  render  adequate  sympathy  with 
the  peculiar  ideas  and  sympathies  of  another  nearly  im 
possible.  Herein  lay  the  ground  of  danger.  This  was  the 
barrier  to  unity  and  happiness.  He  was  always  guarding 
and  hiding  from  the  world  his  weaknesses  and  peculiari 
ties  —  dropping  down  a  veil  when  he  appeared  abroad  — 
questioning  as  to  how  it  would  sound  or  seem,  ere  the 
impulse  to  speak  or  act  found  ultimation.  She,  on  the 
contrary,  was  a  standing  revelation  of  herself.  Never  on 
her  guard  —  never  asking  what  this  one  or  the  other 
might  say  or  think  —  ruled  by  her  impulses  —  sunny,  show 
ery,  petulant,  tender,  passionate.  Her  heart  beat  along  the 
surface  of  her  life,  and  you  might  count  the  pulsations.  It 


16  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

was  this  perpetual  revelation  of  herself  that  constituted  the 
veil  of  mystery,  beyond  which  the  eyes  of  Jansen  could 
not  penetrate  —  caused  his  misinterpretations,  and  stim 
ulated  his  impatience.  He  could  not  understand  her  char 
acter  —  far  less,  sympathize  with  her. 

At  the  end  of  five  months  —  after  a  troubled  sleep,  in 
which  strange  dreams  had  hurt  and^fi'ightened  the  young 
wife  —  there  came  a  full  awakening.  The  stealthy,  intru 
ding,  suffocating,  weird  nightmare,  suddenly  revealed,  as 
we  have  said,  its  hideous  form,  and  she  sprung  from  sleep, 
with  a  cry  of  fear.  It  was  in  this  wise :  — 

Beautiful,  gifted,  fascinating  in  manner,  social,  and  grat 
ified  with  the  attentions  that  were  lavished  upon  her,  Mrs. 
Jansen  was  not  in  the  least  inclined  to  withdraw  herself 
from  the  pleasant  circles  wherein  she  had  shone  as  a  star. 
Now,  this  did  not  please  her  husband.  He  wanted  her 
more  for  himself,  and  felt  disturbed  when  he  saw  her  en 
joying  the  company  of  other  men.  Hindrances  had  been 
thrown  in  her  way  which  only^fcnoyed  instead  of  imped 
ing  her.  He  watched  her  narrowly  when  in  society,  and 
she  was  constantly  detecting  the  half-suspicious  glances 
of  his  cold,  wary  eyes,  a  circumstance  that  did  not  cause 
reflection  or  concession,  but  only  awakened  pride,  and  led 
her  farther  away  from  the  paths  in  which  he  desired  her 
to  walk. 

Carl  Jansen  was  a  merchant,  living  and  doing  business 
in  the  city  of  New  York.  As  our  story  has  nothing  to  do 
with  his  business  life,  we  shall  not  weary  the  reader  with 
dry  descriptions  of  his  store,  his  clerks,  or  his  customers. 
In  regard  to  personal  appearance,  a  few  words  must  suffice. 

In  stature,  he  was  five  feet  eight  inches  —  not  stout 

straight  and  symmetrical.    He  was  always  well  dressed ; 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  17 

had  dark,  fine  hair,  a  little  wavy ;  and  clearly  defined,  smooth 
eyebrows,  handsomely  arched.  Eyes  nearly  black.  Side 
whiskers,  just  a  little  wavy,  like  his  hair,  and  similar  as  to 
color.  His  profile  was  almost  classic,  and  like  chiselled 
marble  in  its  pure  outlines ;  but  the  face  itself  was  neai-ly 
as  pale  and  cold  as  marble.  "  A  perfect  face,"  was  often 
said,  when  the  eyes  first  rested  thereon ;  but,  the  more 
you  studied  it,  the  less  you  were  satisfied  —  the  less  per 
fect  it  seemed.  There  was  defect  hi  something  that  gave 
the  sign  of  a  true  and  noble  manhood.  You  had  an  im 
pression  of  narrowness  instead  of  breadth  —  of  littleness 
instead  of  grandeur.  It  was  a  face,  the  calm  surface  of 
which  was  rarely  broken.  There  might  be  a  tempest  be 
low,  but  few  signs  thereof  would  be  revealed  in  his  placid 
countenance.  He  knew,  perfectly,  the  art  of  hiding  what 
he  felt ;  of  restraining  the  flow  of  passionate  blood  ere  it 
put  a  stain  of  betrayal  on  his  cheek.  Such  men  get  credit 
for  virtues  not  always  possessed. 

Carl  Jansen  left  his  store  one  evening  in  November,  a 
little  before  six  o'clock.  It  was  almost  dark.  He  took  a 
stage  in  Broadway,  just  above  Wall  street.  Two  or  three 
vacant  places  remained  —  one  at  the  forward  part  of  the 
stage,  to  which  he  passed.  Before  reaching  John  street, 
the  stage  had  its  complement  of  twelve  passengers.  The 
last  man  who  entered,  was  a  person  well  know  to  Jansen. 
A  gentleman  sitting  next  to  him  recognized  this  person 
as  he  came  in  and  made  room  for  him.  He  did  not  observe 
Jansen.  There  was  some  defect  in  the  stage  lamp,  and 
it  went  out  soon  after  passing  the  Astor  House ;  in  con 
sequence,  the  faces  of  the  passengers  were  all  in  deep 
shadow.  The  last  comer  had  not  observed  our  mer 
chant,  who  sat  crowded  into  the  corner  of  the  seat,  and 


18  OUT   IN   THE    WOULD. 

who,  being  a  smaller  man  than  his  immediate  neighbor, 
was  quite  concealed.  The  two  men  were,  it  soon  ap 
peared,  intimate  acquaintances.  The  one  known  to  Jan- 
sen  was  named  Guyton.  He  was  a  small  Wall  street 
broker,  of  no  very  fair  record,  but  a  specious,  insinuating, 
shrewd,  self-determined  man,  who  was  making  his  way 
in  the  world,  and  did  not  mean  to  fail  through  lack  of 
wit  and  effort.  He  had  a  smooth  tongue,  a  gracious  man 
ner,  a  rhinoceros  skin,  and  a  conscience  without  scruple. 

"  You  will  be  at  the  club  to-night  ?  "  Jansen  heard  his 
immediate  neighbor  say  to  Guyton,  as  they  were  passing 
Barclay  street. 

"No  ;  I  have  something  better  than  the  club  on  hand." 
"Ah!    What?" 

The  two  men  drew  close  together,  speaking  almost  into 
each  other's  ears.  The  rattle  of  the  stage  prevented  their 
voices  from  being  heard  by  the  passengers  sitting  opposite ; 
but,  Guyton's  face  being  turned  towards  Mr.  Jansen,  he 
by  leaning  and  hearkening  Avith  an  almost  breathless  at 
tention,  managed  to  get  nearly  every  word  that  was 
spoken. 

"  A  party  at  Mrs.  Woodbine's.     Were  you  not  invited  ?  " 

"  The  Woodbines  and  I  don't  take  to  each  other.     They 

are  very  nice  people,  no  doubt ;  but,  a  little  stuck  up,  since 

Woodbine  ventured  into  the  California  trade,  and  came 

out  winner  instead  of  loser." 

"  It's  the  way  of  the  world,  you  know,"  said  Guyton 
"  But  they  give  fine  entertainments,  and  you  meet  some 
charming  people  there." 
"Who?" 

"  There  is  one  in  particular.    Do  you  know  Carl  Jan 
sen  ?  " 


OUT   IN   THE   WOULD.  19 

«  Of  Maiden  Lane  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  at  least,  I  know  of  him." 

"  Have  you  met  his  wife  ?  " 

"  Never." 

"They've  only  been  married  a  few  months.  But  she  is 
lovely !  Wears  the  sunniest  face  you  ever  looked  upon.  A 
perfect  enchantress !  I  am  going  to  meet  her." 

"  You  are ! "  Jansen  did  not  fail  to  note  the  surprised 
tone  in  which  this  response  was  made. 

"  Yes :  she's  the  attraction.  I  wish  you  could  hear  her 
sing.  She  has  the  most  perfect  voice  I  ever  heard  in  a 
woman.  It  is  divine." 

"  Does  the  lady  respond  to  your  admiration  ?  " 

Just  then,  in  making  way  for  a  down-coming  stage,  the 
one  in  which  they  were  riding  turned  short  towards  the 
pavement,  and  the  hind  wheels  grinding  against  the  curb 
stone,  drowned  the  voice  that  answered ;  and  so  the  eager, 
tingling  ears  of  the  surprised  husband  did  not  catch  the 
reply.  What  he  did  hear  from  Guyton's  companion,  was 
not  calculated  to  soothe  his  feelings.  The  sentence  was 
this : — 

"A  little  vanity  in  so  good  looking  a  fellow  as  you  are 
may  be  pardoned.  If,  however,  an  old  stager's  advice  be 
worth  anything,  let  me  suggest  prudence.  Trouble  is  apt 
to  come  of  these  things.  Honesty  is  found  to  be  the  best 
policy  in  the  long  run,  whether  a  man's  gold  or  his  wife  be 
considered.  You'd  better  come  to  the  club." 

"  No,  thank  you !  Not  small  beer  when  I  can  get  the 
flavor  of  wine." 

"  How  is  Erie  to  day  ?  "  Guyton's  companion  changed 
the  subject. 

"  Flat,"  was  answered. 


20  OUT  IN   THE   WOULD. 

"  Hudson  river  ?  " 

"  Advanced  a  half.    If  you  have  a  few  thousands  to 
spare,  now  is  your  time.    It's  on  the  upward  move." 

«  Do  you  think  so  ?  " 

*'  I  know  so." 

Jansen  shrunk  back  into  his  corner  of  the  stage  with  a 
mingled  feeling  of  pain,  anger  and  mortification.  Nothing 
more  of  what  passed  between  the  two  men  reached  his 
ears.  Did  a  suspicion  touching  his  wife  cross  his  mind  ? 
No  —  not  the  shade  of  a  suspicion.  He  believed  her  to 
be  true  and  pure,  and  it  almost  maddened  him  to  think 
that  the  breath  of  such  a  man  as  Guyton  should  fall  upon 
her  cheek.  The  particular  attentions  of  this  man  to  Mad 
eline  on  two  or  three  recent  occasions  had  not  escaped  his 
observation.  He  understood  something  of  their  meaning 
now. 

But,  how  was  he  to  deal  with  Madeline  ?  How  save  her 
from  contact  with  a  person  whose  eyes  he  saw,  in  fancy, 
looking  at  her  with  the  greed  of  a  sensualist  and  a  villain  ? 
The  two  men  left  the  stage  before  him,  and,  unembarrassed 
by  their  presence,  he  pondered  this  new  question,  that 
seemed  more  difficult  of  solution  with  every  repeated  effort 
to  reach  an  answer.  Madeline  herself  had  proved  an  enig 
ma.  He  had,  so  far,  failed  to  comprehend  her  character. 
She  did  not  seem  to  reflect  —  had  no  worldly  wisdom  — 
no  suspicions  — no  prudence.  Her  feelings  were  her  lead- 
ders,  and  carried  her  whithersoever  they  would.  Every 
effort  so  far  made,  whether  gentle  w  firm,  to  hold  her  back 
from  the  social  life  in  which  she  found  so  much  enjoyment, 
had  been  fruitless.  The  feeble  arguments  he  could  educe 
on  the  side  of  "  moping  at  home,"  as  she  said,  we/e.to  her 
as  weak  as  gossamer.  She  blew  them  away  at  a  breath. 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  21 

"Life  was  given  us  to  enjoy,  Carl,"  she  sometimes  an 
swered  him  in  playful  seriousness,  "  and  we  cannot  enjoy 
it  alone.  The  heart  is  social.  It  must  have  friends.  Home 
is  sweet  —  but  the  sweetest  and  purest  lake  that  ever 
smiled  back  into  the  blue  sky,  or  reflected  the  light  of  stars, 
will  grow  vile  and  death-breeding,  if  its  waters  be  not  re 
newed  and  agitated  by  the  influx  of  streams.  Because  we 
have  created  a  home,  shall  we  retire  into  it  and  selfishly 
shut  the  door —  letting  none  pass  over  our  threshold  nor 
crossing  it  ourselves  ?  This  would  indeed  be  folly !  No, 
no,  Carl !  We  must  not  imitate  the  folly  that  is  making 
so  many  homes  in  our  land  little  better  than  gloomy 
cloisters.  Does  the  marriage  vow  involve  a  renunciation 
of  the  world  ?  Is  the  wife  a  simple  devotee  ?  —  a  nun  ? 
— I  must  be  pardoned  for  thinking  differently." 

Carl  might  as  profitably  have  talked  to  the  wind  as  to 
argue  against  his  wife.  All  this  was,  with  her,  a  matter 
of  perception.  She  saw  it ;  and  reasons  to  the  contrary 
were  to  her  as  words  without  meaning.  In  all  his  efforts 
to  draw  her  to  his  way  of  thinking  —  where  it  ran  counter 
to  what  she  saw  and  felt  to  be  right  —  he  had,  so  far,  en 
tirely  failed.  There  was  either  a  playful  setting  of  him 
aside,  or  a  more  sober,  but  resolute,  advance  along  the 
ways  in  which  she  saw  it  right  to  go.  These  were  not 
perverse,  doubtful,  or  dangerous  ways ;  but  simply  the  old 
ways  amid  social  pleasures  wherein  she  had  walked  for  a 
few  bright  years ;  where  Carl  had  walked  also ;  and  where 
they  had  met  as  lovers.  In  his  eyes  she  had  graced  these 
ways  once  —  was  their  most  beautiful  ornament  —  but 
now,  she  seemed  out  of  her  sphere  there.  It  had  been 
well  enough  for  the  maiden,  but  was  not  for  the  wife. 
The  conversation  just  heard  in  the  stage,  confirmed  all  his 


22  OUT   IN"   THE   WOKLD. 

objections  to  her  love  of  society.  But  lie  was  not  clear  as 
to  the  propriety  of  reporting  this  conversation  —  at  least 
not  for  the  present.  His  experience  with  Madeline  caused 
him  to  hesitate.  He  was  never  certain  of  the  way  in 
which  she  would  respond  to  a  communication  in  any  man 
ner  bearing  upon  her  conduct.  In  most  cases,  she  had 
acted  in  clear  opposition  to  his  .way  of  thinking. 

Carl  Jansen,  on  reaching  home,  found  his  wife  in  the 
midst  of  elaborate  toilette  preparations,  though  it  was 
yet  full  two  hours  before  Mrs.  Woodbine's  guests  would 
begin  to  present  themselves.  His  face  did  not  light  up 
with  its  accustomed  smiles  on  meeting  her.  He  was  too 
sober  —  too  annoyed  —  for  smiles.  His  eyes  clear  and 
cold  at  all  times,  were  particularly  cold  now ;  his  face 
clouded  ;  his  lips  compressed  with  unusual  firmness.  His 
presence,  to  the  warm,  light  heart  of  Madeline,  fell  like  a 
shade. 

"  What's  the  matter?  Are  you  sick  ?  "  she  asked,  rest 
ing  her  eyes  on  his  face,  and  trying  to  read  every  line  of 
expression. 

He  said  something  about  a  slight  headache ;  but  his  man 
ner  was  reserved.  As  this  was  not  the  first  time  her  hus 
band  had  come  home  in  a  strange  humor,  on  a  like  occa 
sion,  Madeline  partly  guessed  the  cause.  A  state  of 
irritation  followed.  Janscit  saw  this  change  of  feeling 
writing  itself  in  her  tell-tale  eyes  and  face,  and  it  sobered 
and  discouraged  him  still  more.  Excess  of  feeling,  while 
it  blinded  her,  stimulated  her  self-will.  He  had  gained 
experience  of  this  already. 

"There  is  no  use  in  opposition,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  She  will  go,  spite  of  anything  I  can  say." 

He  might  have  told  her  of  what  he  had  heard  in  the 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  23 

stage.  But,  that  would  have  been  no  reason  for  her  re 
maining  at  home  ;  only  for  a  guarded  demeanor  towards 
Mr.  Guyton.  As  the  communication  of  this  incident,  at 
the  time,  would  effect  nothing,  Jansen  felt  constrained, 
still  to  keep  it  in  his  own  possession.  He  would,  of  course, 
not  lose  sight  of  Madeline  for  a  moment  —  would  linger 
near  her  as  much  as  possible ;  and  watch  Guyton  with 
eagle  eyes. 

In  this  spirit  he  went  with  his  wife  to  Mrs.  Woodbine's. 


CHAPTER  HI. 


HEY  were  silent  by  the  way  —  he,  from 
a  brooding,  questioning,  bound  state  of 
feeling ;  she,  partly  from  the  intrusion 
of  his  unhappy  condition  of  mind,  and 
partly,  because  she  knew  that  to  speak 
of  her  pleasant  anticipations  would  n  .eet 
with  no  cheerful  response. 

Mrs.  Woodbine's  elegant  suite  of 
drawing-rooms,  from  the  last  of  whh'.h 
opened  her  choicely  stocked  conservato 
ry,  were  almost  filled  with  guests  when  Carl  Jansen  and  his 
wife  arrived.  They  had  entered,  Madeline  leaning  on  her 
husband's  arm ;  been  received  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wood 
bine  ;  and  were  moving  down  the  room,  amid  richly  at 
tired  women  and  their  attendants,  when  Mr.  Guyton  pre 
sented  himself  with  a  face  all  smiles  and  courtesy,  and 
said,  with  the  assured  familiarity  of  a  favored  friend  — 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Jansen  !  I've  been  looking  for  you  !  Good 
evening,  Mr.  Jansen !  Let  me  take  the  care  of  your  lady 
off  of  your  hands." 


OUT   IN    THE   WORLD.  25 

And  before  Jansen  had  time  to  think,  Madeline's  hand 
had  been  withdrawn  from  his  arm,  and  she  was  moving 
away,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  very  man  whom  of  all  men 
living,  he  at  that  time  most  detested.  What  was  to  be 
done  ?  Anything,  or  nothing?  For  once  in  his  life,  there 
were  red  stains  of  passion  in  his  cheeks.  He  knew  it  by 
their  burning  glow ;  and,  in  fear  lest  he  should  betray  the 
almost  maddening  strife  of  feeling  that  seemed  as  if  it 
would  bear  him  beyond  self-control,  he  moved  out  of  the 
circle  of  observation  as  far  as  possible.  But,  he  did  not 
lose  sight  of  his  wife.  How  perfectly  at  home  she  was 
with  Mr.  Guyton !  How  familiarly  did  she  lean  towards 
him,  looking  up  into  his  face,  and  answering  him  with 
sunny  smiles  and  bright  laughing  eyes !  He  was  an  at 
tractive  man ;  taller  in  stature  than  Mr.  Jansen,  and  alto 
gether  of  a  more  imposing  exterior.  His  manners  were 
polished  —  his  tastes  cultivated ;  and  he  had  fine  conver 
sational  powers.  Altogether  he  was  a  man  to  shine  in 
society  —  one  that  fascinated  women. 

As  Jansen's  eyes  followed  them,  a  cold,  dull  sense  of 
fear,  that  hurt  as  it  stealthily  intruded,  crept  through  his 
heart.  What  did  this  mean  ?  The  unhappy  man  looked 
inward,  searchingly,  and  found  a  new  sensation,  full  of 
pain.  Love  had  taken  the  alarm ;  and,  suddenty,  a  mailed 
knight  was  by  her  side,  with  sword  unsheathed.  Under 
the  half  shut  visor,  you  saw  the  gleam  of  a  cruel  eye.  It 
was  Jealousy. 

Now,  in  most  cases,  jealousy  sees  through  an  obscuring 
medium,  and  gives  fa1  so  report  of  every  act.  The  purest 
Binile  is  an  invitation  to  step  aside  from  paths  of  virtue ; 
the  simplest  motion  a  betrayal  of  design  ;  a  foregone  ad 
mission  of  evil  distorts  and  changes  everything. 
2 


26  OUT   IN   THE    WORLD. 

Like  a  dissolving  view,  almost  suddenly,  yet  by  a  strange, 
gradual  blending  with,  and  substitution  of  one  thing  for 
another,  the  scene  before  Carl  Jansen  put  on  new  features, 
and  a  new  significance.  There  was  a  dangerous  tempter 
beside  his  wife  —  she  was  in  peril.  There  was  safety  only 
in  her  withdrawal  from  his  alluring  sphere.  This  "idea 
took  entire  possession  of  Jansen's  mind.  But,  how  was 
this  withdrawal  to  be  effected  ?  He  was  yet  in  the  midst 
of  his  perplexed  and  troubled  thoughts,  when  he  observed 
Madeline  and  her  companion  pass  from  one  of  the  draw 
ing  rooms  into  the  conservatory.  As  he  was  moving  to 
follow  them,  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  a  lady 
acquaintance,  who  said,  as  they  recognized  each  other  — 

"  I've  been  looking  at  your  wife,  Mr.  Jansen.  She  is 
lovely." 

The  lady  was  not  a  flatterer ;  but  a  frank  outspoken 
friend,  well  enough  acquainted  to  assume  liberties  of 
speech, 

"  I've  never  seen  her  look  better  than  she  does  to-night," 
she  continued.  "  Perfectly  charming.  Everybody  is  in 
love  with  her!  I  wonder  you  are  not  jealous.  I  should 
be,  were  I  a  man  and  had  such  a  beautiful,  fascinating 
creature  for  a  wife." 

"A  poor  compliment  to  both  yourself  and  Avife  thnt 
would  be,  taking  the  supposed  case  as  real,"  said  Jansen, 
trying  to  answer  indifferently.  But,  his  voice  had  no  mu 
sic  in  it.  The  tones  were  dull  and  husky. 

"I  believe  you  are  jealous!"  said  the  lady,  in  playful 
banter,  passing  her  fan  lightly  before  his  face.  "  For 
shame ! " 

Once  more,  a  rare  thing  for  Jansen,  the  color  rose  to 
his  cheeks,  and  he  felt  that  he  was  betraying  himself.  A 


OUT  IN   THE   WORLD.  27 

third  person  joining  them  at  the  moment,  there  was  op 
portunity  for  dropping  a  theme  which  to  him  had  proved 
almost  painfully  embarrassing.  Full  twenty  minutes 
elapsed  before  he  could  disengage  himself  from  these  two 
ladies.  During  this  time  his  watchful  eyes  had  been  upon 
the  door  leading  into  the  conservatory ;  but  his  wife  had 
not  yet  reappeared. 

Jealousy  moves,  always,  with  circumspection  —  has 
stealthy,  but  quick-seeing  eyes. —  Veils  alertness  under 
forms  of  indifference.  —  Pretends  not  to  observe,  when 
every  sense  is  acute.  Jansen  entered  the  conservatory 
with  the  air  of  a  half  absent-minded  person,  and  stood 
near  the  door,  in  pretended  admiration  of  a  flowering- 
cactus.  He  bent  to  the  curious,  irregular  mass  of  vege 
tation —  touched  its  fluted  sides — felt  of  its  prickly 
spines,  and  stooped  to  its  crimson  blossoms  as  if  to  find 
some  odors  there  ;  yet,  thought  was  scarcely  noticing  the 
plant,  and  his  eyes,  as  he  leaned  over  it,  were  looking 
between  its  branches,  and  along  the  green-house  alleys. 
But  their  search  was  not  satisfactory.  A  little  farther 
away  from  the  entrance  depended  a  basket,  in  which  an 
air  plant  was  imitating  a  butterfly ;  and  so  perfect,  at  first 
sight,  was  the  semblance,  that  Jansen  was  half  deceived, 
and  stepped  closer  to  solve  the  illusion.  The  bright  eyes 
and  painted  wings  were  but  the  coloring  of  a  leaf. 

"  Isn't  it  exquisite,  Carl  ?  "  .  Jansen  started  to  find  his 
wife  near  him.  She  was  still  in  the  company  of  Guyton. 
Her  face  was  alive  with  beauty  and  feeling.  She  looked 
more  Lovely  than  she  had  ever  appeared.  "  You  will  find 
some  rare  and  beautiful  things  here,"  she  added.  "  I 
have  enjoyed  them  so  much.  Be  sure  to  look  at  Mrs. 
Woodbine's  pansies,  at  the  lower  end.  Such  richness  and 
variety  in  the  coloring,  I  have  never  seen." 


28  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

In  the  next  moment,  she  had  vanished  with  her  attend 
ant,  passing  again  to  the  drawing-rooms,  and  leaving  her 
husband  to  the  companionship  of  flowers.  For  a  short 
time,  he  stood  bewildered ;  then  advanced  a  little  way 
down  the  conservatory  —  stood,  apparently,  in  admiration 
of  a  large  orange  tree ;  and  then,  turning,  went  back  to 
the  parlors.  Through  these,  he  searched  in  vain  for  his 
wife.  She  was  no  where  to  be  seen.  Presently  music 
was  heard.  It  came  from  one  of  the  upper  rooms.  A 
few,  who  loved  music,  left  the  crowded  apartments  below, 
and  went  up  stairs.  Jansen  stood  in  the  hall,  near  the 
stair-way,  in  a  state  of  indecision.  A  voice,  clear  and 
sweet,  stole  out  on  the  air  above,  and  came  floating  down. 
There  was  a  pause  in  the  movement  about  Jansen  —  a 
pause  to  listen. 

"  That's  your  wife,"  said  one  who  happened  to  be  near 
the  young  man. 

At  this  moment,  another  voice,  rich  and  deep,  swelled 
out,  in  accord  with  the  fine  soprano. 

"  And  that's  Guyton,"  added  the  same  person.  "  He's 
a  glorious  singer.  Come ! " 

The  speaker  moved  to  the  stairs,  and  Jansen  accompa 
nied  him.  They  went  up,  and  following  the  rich  sounds, 
entered  a  large  front  chamber,  which  had  been  arranged 
as  a  music  room  for  the  occasion.  The  sight  which  there 
met  the  eyes  of  Jansen  was  in  no  respect  calculated  to 
soothe  his  disturbed  feelings.  The  piano  was  so  arranged 
that  you  could  see  the  performers'  faces. 

Madeline  was  seated  at  the  instrument,  and  Guyton 
standing  beside  her.  They  were  singing  a  duet.  Guyton 
turned  the  music,  and  in  doing  so,  bent,  with  a  closeness 
of  contact,  and  a  familiarity  of  manner,  that  struck  the 


OUT  IK  THE  WORLD.  29 

• 

husband  as  an  outrage ;  sometimes  dropping,  during  a 
pause  in  his  part,  a  word  in  the  ear  of  Mrs.  Jansen.  At 
the  conclusion  of  the  piece,  Madeline,  who  seemed  to  be 
conscious  of  no  presence  but  that  of  her  companion,  lift 
ed  to  his  her  bright  eyes  and  glowing  face,  and  received, 
with  evident  signs  of  pleasure,  the  compliments  he 
lavished. 

Jansen  was  on  fire !  With  difficulty  he  restrained  an 
impulse  prompting  him  to  cross  the  room  to  where  the 
performers  were  engaged,  and  invite  his  wife  to  accompany 
him  down  stairs.  The  act  would  have  been  an  outrage; 
and  he  was  able  to  see  this  clearly  enough  to  prevent  the 
folly.  For  nearly  half  an  hour,  he  was  doomed  to  the  suf 
ferings  of  a  purgatory.  The  singers  were  enchanted  with 
the  music,  and  as  he  read  their  feelings  in  their  counten 
ances,  with  each  other  also.  Madeline  had  never  looked 
to  him  more  ravishingly  beautiful.  Light  flashed  from 
her  face  and  eyes,  and  floated  around  her  glossy  curls  and 
gemmed  head-dress,  like  a  halo. 

Dancing  had  commenced  in  the  parlors ;  and  this  was 
gradually  diminishing  the  company  gathered  in  the  music 
room.  TFansen  was  among  those  who  lingered.  A  bril 
liant  little  Italian  song  had  been  sung  by  Madeline,  and 
she  was  sitting  quietly  for  a  moment  in  the  pause  that 
followed,  when  Guyton  bent  down  and  said  something. 
Smiles  of  consent  and  pleasure  danced  over  her  face,  and 
she  arose  from  the  music  stool  and  took  his  proffered  arm. 
They  were  half  across  the  room,  when  Jansen  stood  in 
their  way,  and  looking  coldly,  almost  sternly  at  his  wife, 
said,  in  an  undertone  — 

"  I  want  you  for  a  moment."  Then  bowing  with  an  ex 
cess  of  formality  to  her  companion,  he  said  to  him  — 

"  Pray  excuse  her,  Mr.  Guyton." 


30  OUT  IN   THE   WORLD. 

Madeline  looked  seriously  annoyed.  Guyton  was  sur 
prised,  and  stared  at  Mr.  Jansen  with  falling  brows,  like 
one  offended  by  a  rudeness.  He  returned  the  bow  quite 
as  formally  as  it  had  been  given,  and  left  the  young  hus 
band  and  his  wife  in  the  now  almost  deserted  room. 

"  You  are  forgetting  yourself,  Madeline,"  said  Jansen, 
as  soon  as  they  were  sufficiently  alone  to  escape  particular 
notice.  His  eyes  were  riddles  to  his  wife.  What  new, 
strange,  dark  meanings  were  looking  out  of  them  ?  They 
were  full  of  accusation  ;  were  sharp  with  anger. 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  she  replied ;  and  she  did 
not.  The  color  had  almost  all  gone  out  of  her  face,  that 
was  rosy  as  blushing  May  scarcely  a  moment  back. 

Jansen  was  excited  and  in  mental  obscurity. 

"  Perhaps  I  can  make  it  clear,"  he  said,  speaking  in  a 
tone  of  irony. 

"  Do,  if  you  please  ! "  His  hardness  was  communicating 
itself.  Madeline  looked  at  him  with  shut  lips,  and  cold 
eyes.  He  had  broken  upon  her  happiness  too  suddenly 
and  in  a  way  that  stirred  her  anger.  She  felt  that  there 
was  something  of  outrage  in  his  inexplicable  conduct. 

"  There  are  some  men  with  whom  it  is  not  prudent  for  a 
young  wife  to  be  seen  in  too  close  familiarity." 

«  Carl  Jansen  !  Is  it  possible !  "  She  was  startled  and 
indignant. 

"  I  speak  soberly,"  he  returned. 

"  So  much  the  worse,"  was  answered  quickly,  and  with 
a  hot  flushing  of  the  face,  which  had  grown  so  pale  a  lit 
tle  while  before.  "Your  wife  appreciates  the  compli 
ment  ! " 

"  Don't  make  light  of  things  that  I  regard  as  serious, 
Madeline  j  and,  particularly,  don't  make  light  of  this."  He 


OUT   rff   THE   WORLD.  31 

spoke  in  a  warning  way.  "I  am  in  no  temper  for  trifling 
to-night.  What  I  have  seen  and  heard,  justifies  me  in  all 
I  am  saying  and  doing." 

"  And  pray,  sir,  what  have  you  seen  and  heard  to-night  ?  " 
demanded  Mrs.  Janscn,  drawing  a  little  away  from  her  hus 
band,  and  looking  at  him  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  Enough,"  he  said, "  to  warn  me  of  danger  to  your  good 
fame." 

She  turned  from  him  with  an  offended  air,  and  had  re 
ceded  a  pace  or  two,  when  he  moved  forward  to  her  side» 
and  bending  close  to  her  ear,  whispered  — 

"  I  am  going  home,  and  desire  you  to  accompany  me." 

Madeline  stood  still  instantly.  She  did  not  turn  her 
face,  nor  look  at  him.  Only  a  moment  to  reflection  was 
given  —  no,  not  to  reflection,  but  to  the  hindering  of 
quickly  springing  impulse.  Passion  had  sway ;  but  pas 
sion  hiding  itself  from  common  observation.  She  answered 
in  a  firm  low  voice  — 

"  At  one  o'clock,  I  shall  be  ready  to  accompany  you} 
not  before." 

"  Madeline  ! "     The  tone  was  in  warning. 

"  At  one.  Not  a  minute  before."  And  she  left  him  and 
went  down  stairs. 

It  was  full  twenty  minutes  before  Jansen  had  sufficient 
possession  of  himself  to  venture  into  the  drawing-rooms 
again.  There  was  dancing,  and  his  wife  was  on  the  floor 
—  her  partner,  Mr.  Guyton.  He  stood  looking  at  them,  as 
if  under  a  spell.  Every  time  the  hand  of  his  wife  touched 
that  of  her  handsome  partner,  a  fiery  thrill  would  run 
along  his  nerves,  and  strike  on  his  brain  with  a  shock.  She 
moved  before  him,  an  image  of  surpassing  loveliness  —  an 
embodiment  of  pleasure.  There  was  nowhere  to  be  read, 


32  OUT  IN   THE   WORLD. 

on  her  joyous  countenance,  the  faintest  sign  of  troubled 
thought.  It  seemed  as  if  the  memory  of  what  had  passed 
a  little  while  before  was  wholly  obliterated  from  her  con 
sciousness. 

"Is  she  heartless!  Does  she  defy  me!  O  jealousy! 
Blind,  suspicious,  cruel ;  how  quickly  dost  thou  lead  the 
soul  astray !  Jansen  moved  back,  and  went  into  the  hall, 
where  he  was  out  of  sight  of  the  dancers. 

"  I  said  that  I  was  going  home,"  he  spoke  with  himself. 
"  and  what  I  say  I  mean.  She  made  light  of  it.  Very 
well !  She  shall  know  me  better.  My  word  is  the  law  of 
my  actions.  I  speak,  and  do.  I  said  that  I  was  going 
and  I  shall  go." 

It  was  one  o'clock.  Half  the  company  had  retired. 
The  drawing-rooms  were  no  longer  crowded,  as  few  ex 
cept  the  dancers  remained.  For  all  the  sunny  face,  and 
light,  joyous  manner  of  Mrs.  Jansen,  even  as  her  husband 
looked  at  her  in  anger  of  this  very  joyousnesS,  there  was 
the  weight,  as  of  a  leaden  hand,  lying  on  her  bosom.  And 
this  had  grown  heavier  and  heavier,  as  the  hours  passed, 
until  its  pressure  was  almost  suffocating.  She  had  been 
dancing  a  set.  The  figures  were  completed,  and  the  music 
ceased, 

"  I  must  find  my  husband,"  she  said,  partly  aloud,  and 
partly  to  herself,  gliding  away  from  her  partner,  and  mov 
ing  from  room  to  room.  Not  seeing  him,  she  passed  to 
the  hall,  and  then  up  stairs. 

"  Have  you  seen  anything  of  my  husband,  Mrs.  Wood 
bine  ?  "  she  asked  of  the  lady  hostess,  as  she  met  her  on 
the  landing. 

"  No.    Isn't  he  down  stairs  ?  " 

« I  think  not," 


OUT  IN  THE   WORLD.  33 

"  Perhaps  you  will  find  him  in  the  music  room.  There 
are  several  gentlemen  there." 

But  he  was  not  in  the  music  room.  Mrs.  Jansen  went 
gliding  down  stairs,  almost  holding  her  breath.  The  hand 
that  lay  on  her  bosom  grew  heavier  and  heavier.  Through 
the  glass  door  of  the  conservatory,  she  saw  figures  moving 
among  the  plants.  She  went  in,  and  along  the  fragrant 
aisles,  but  failed  to  meet  the  object  of  her  search. 

"  Have  you  seen  anything  of  my  husband  ?"  The  ques 
tion  was  asked  of  a  friend  whom  she  met  on  coming  out 
of  the  conservatory. 

"  Not  lately.  Perhaps  he  is  in  the  gentlemen's  dressing- 
room." 

"  If  you  see  him,  please  say  that  I  have  gone  for  my 
cloak  and  hood,  and  will  be  down  in  a  few  moments." 

"  Certainly."     And  the  gentleman  bowed. 

It  took  Mrs.  Jansen  only  a  few  minutes  to  get  ready  for 
departure.  Cloaked  and  hooded  she  came  down  stairs, 
eagerly  searching  with  her  eyes  among  the  gentlemen 
who  waited  in  the  hall  for  her  husband.  But  he  was  not 
among  them.  Disappointed  she  drew  back,  up  the  stairs. 

"  Have  you  seen  anything  of  my  husband  ?  "  Again 
this  question  was  repeated.  She  spoke  to  Mr.  Woodbine. 

"  Indeed  I  have  not,  Mrs.  Jansen." 

"  Wont  you  be  kind  enough  to  ascertain  for  me  if  he  is 
in  the  gentlemen's  dressing-room  ?  " 

"  With  pleasure." 

"  Say,  if  you  please,  that  I  am  all  ready." 

A  sofa  stood  in  the  upper  hall.     Mrs.  Jansen  was  feeling 
very  weak.     Her  limbs  trembled.     She  went  up  from  the 
landing,  on  which  she  had  met  Mr.  Woodbine,  and  sat 
down  on  the  sofa. 
2* 


34  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"  Why,  how  pale  you  are,  Mrs.  Jansen ! "  exclaimed  a 
lady  who  had  come  up  at  the  moment.  "Don't  you  feel 
well?" 

"  Not  very,"  Madeline  answered,  fuintly. 

"  You  have  danced  too  much.  I  feared  you  would  over 
do  yourself."  The  lady  friend  drew  a  bottle  of  smelling 
salts  from  her  pocket,  and  handed  it  to  Mrs.  Jansen.  The 
pungent  oder,  stimulating  her  brain,  partly  revived  her. 

"  You  should  have  been  more  prudent.  It  was  on  my 
lip  to  suggest  this  two  or  three  times.  Where  is  your  hus 
band  ?  " 

"  I  am  expecting  him  every  moment.  Mi*.  Woodbine 
has  gone  to  the  dressing-room  to  tell  him  I  am  ready." 

Two  or  three  ladies  by  this  time  stood  before  Madeline. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  "  Is  she  sick  ?  "  «  How  very 
white  she  is ! "  These  short  sentences  passed  from  one  to 
another. 

"  I  can't  find  anything  of  your  husband,"  said  Mr.  Wood 
bine,  joining,  soon  after,  the  group.  One  of  my  servants 
says  that  he  went  out  nearly  three  hours  ago,  and  that  he 
doesn't  remember  having  seen  him  since.  And  now  that 
I  think  of  it  —  Bless  me ! "  His  tone  and  manner  changed 
instantly.  «  Catch  her !  She's  falling ! " 

Madeline's  head  had  dropped  suddenly  on  her  bosom, 
and  she  was  slipping  to  the  floor.  Eager  arms  caught  her, 
and  laid  her  back  on  the  sofa.  She  was  colorless  as  mar 
ble,  and  insensible ! 


CHAPTER  IV. 

>OR  two  months  Madeline  lay  ill  at  Mrs. 
Woodbine's.  A  portion  of  the  time  there 
had  been  despair  of  her  life.  Then  she 
was  removed  to  her  own  home. 

More  than  one  sweet  hope  died  in  her 
heart  during  these  never-to-be-forgotten 
days.  She  came  out  of  them,  changed  for 
all  the  time  to  come.  What  guarded  ex 
planations  of  his  conduct  her  husband  un 
bent  himself  to  make,  in  no  degree  satis 
fied  her.  She  did  not,  indeed,  comprehend  them.  She 
could  not  get  to  his  stand-point,  and  from  thence  view 
herselfl  Her  very  innocence  and  artlessness  obscured  all 
perception  of  wrong. 

On  the  part  of  Jansen,  there  was  regret  for  the  conse 
quences  which  had  followed  his  too  hastily  determined 
withdrawal  from  the  party,  and  he  blamed  himself  for 
what  he  had  done.  But  pride  kept  back  from  his  lips  and 
manner  a  confession  of  regret,  or  an  acknowledgment  of 
blame.  On  the  whole  subject,  he  was  coldly  reticent ; 


36  OUT  IN   THE   WORLD. 

trying,  as  it  were  to  throw  a  veil  over  the  affair,  as  some 
thing  that  could  not  bear  the  light.  So  far  as  Madeline  was 
concerned,  she  was  ready  to  answer  for  herself  in  every 
thing —  had  no  desire  for  concealment  —  would  have  jus 
tified  herself  to  the  last  particular,  because  she  knew  her 
self  to  be  loyal  and  pure.  But,  her  husband  never  gave 
her  this  opportunity.  If  the  truth,  in  regard  to  him,  could 
have  been  exhibited  in  clear  light,  it  would  have  shown 
such  a  state  of  keen  sensitiveness  touching  the  world's 
opinion  of  what  had  taken  place,  as  to  overshadow  con 
siderations  that  lay  at  the  very  foundations  of  peace  and 
happiness.  And  this  sensitiveness  to  the  world's  opinion 
did  not  regard  his  wife's  reputation  so  much  as  his  own. 
He  wished  to  appear  blameless  in  the  eyes  of  all  men; 
and  must  we  say  it,  desired,  in  his  secret  heart,  that  Mad 
eline  should  stand  convicted  of  wrong  rather  than  him 
self! 

Always  Carl  Jansen  was  consciously  in  the  world's 
presence.  Keep  this  trait  of  character  in  mind.  He  was 
.an  actor  on  life's  stage,  and  the  men  and  women  he  knew 
and  mingled  with  socially,  or  in  business,  were  the  au 
dience.  He  acted  badly,  you  will  say,  at  Mrs.  Woodbine's. 
So  he  did,  and  no  one  knew  that  better  than  Jansen  him 
self.  It  was  the  smarting  consciousness  of  this  that  made 
him  cold  and  unforgiving  towards  Madeline.  He  blamed 
her  for  what  he  suffered;  and  failed  adequately  to  pity 
her  suffering,  because  he  deemed  it  deserved  and  salutary. 

Out  of  sharp  mental  agonies  most  persons  arise  with  a 
clearer  moral  vision.  It  was  not  so  with  Mrs.  Jansen. 
True,  her  thought  had  a  wider  range  ;  she  had  developed 
in  some  directions  in  a  remarkable  degree.  But,  touching 
her  true  position  as  a  wife,  perception  had  not  grown 


OUT   IX   THE   WOELD.  37 

clearer.  She  felt  that  she  had  been  wronged  in  her  hus 
band's  heart,  and  wronged  by  him  before  the  world. 
Nothing  was  clearer  to  her  than  this.  She  could  see  it 
only  in  one  light.  What  had  she  done  ?  Nothing  evil. 
In  not  one  line  had  she  swerved  from  honorable  thought  or 
feeling.  There  had  not  been  the  least  variableness  nor 
shadow  of  turning  in  the  needle  of  her  love,  which  point 
ed  to  her  husband  as  its  polar  star.  As  of  old,  she  had 
entered  with  all  the  outflowing  impulses  of  her  nature 
into  the  night's  festivities.  She  had  sung  with  that  sweet 
abandonment  of  soul  common  with  those  who  have  a  pas 
sion  for  music.  She  had  felt  the  all-pervading  sphere  of 
pleasure  that  filled  the  atmosphere  in  which  she  moved,  as 
she  had  felt  it  a  hundred  times  before.  That  Guyton 
sought  to  monopolize  her  company  was  something  to 
which  she  had  not  given  a  thought,  until  summoned  so 
harshly  by  her  husband  and  virtually  commanded  to  re 
tire  with  him  from  the  house.  Then,  as  a  kind  of  eelf- 
justLfication,  and  from  wounded  pride,  she  permitted  his 
further  attentions.  Had  there  been  the  feeblest  motion 
of  desire  towards  him  —  of  preference  above  her  husband 
—  she  would  have  started  back  from  him  in  conscious  fear 
and  shame.  But  being,  as  we  have  said,  loyal  and  pure, 
she  did  not,  in  imagination,  invest  him  with  any  attrac 
tions  that  could  hold  her  regard  for  an  instant  of  time. 
He  was  a  pleasant  companion ;  that  was  all. 

Alas  for  Madeline!  Alas  for  her  husband!  that  she 
had  not  come  up  out  of  the  valley  of  pain  and  deep  hu 
miliation,  with  a  clearer  vision.  Alas  for  them,  that  both 
were  blinded  by  natural  feeling,  and  that,  alike,  they  saw 
obscurely  —  were  alike  disposed  to  self-excuses  and  mutual 
blame.  There  was  no  outward  arraignment  of  each  other 


38  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

—  no  allusion,  even  remotely,  to  that  one  unhappy  cir 
cumstance,  the  memory  of  which  was  as  an  ever  present 
cloud  in  the  horizon  of  their  souls,  dimming  the  sunlight ; 
but,  thought  accused. 

Each  began  to  perceive  in  the  other  a  sphere  of  cold 
ness.  The  reserve  that  followed  Madeline's  restoration  to 
health,  increased  rather  than  diminished.  On  the  side  of 
Madeline,  this  was  attributed  to  a  state  of  hardness  to 
wards  her  by  her  husband ;  on  the  side  of  Jansen,  it  was 
attributed  to  wilfulness  and  defect  of  love.  To  one 
thing  the  husband  had  made  up  his  mind  —  reasoning 
from  his  own  stand-point.  It  was  his  duty  to  guard  his 
wife ;  to  hold  her  as  far  as  possible  away  from  the  allure 
ments  of  society,  and  the  dangerous  association  of  attrac 
tive,  but  unprincipled  men,  and  he  meant  to  do  this.  If 
he  had  really  known  the  artless,  pure-minded  woman  who 
had  promised  to  be  true  to  him  as  a  wife,  he  would  not 
have  seen  his  duty  in  this  direction.  But  he  did  not 
know  her,  and  what  was  worse,  lacked  the  perceptive 
power  by  which  to  know  her.  He  had  no  plummet  line 
that  would  sound  the  depths  of  her  real  consciousness. 
And  so,  standing  side  by  side  with  her,  in  tjie  closest  of 
all  human  relations,  she  was  yet  a  stranger.  For  all  this, 
he  judged  her  as  inexorably  as  if  the  book  of  her  inner 
life  were  laid  open  to  him,  and  he  knew  every  page  by 
heart. 

On  the  return  of  health,  the  friends  of  Mrs.  Jansen,  who 
made  up  a  large  circle,  drew  her  speedily  back  again  into 
society.  Deliberately,  acting  from  what  he  conceived  to 
be  an  imperative  duty,  her  husband  began  throwing  imped 
iments  in  her  way.  She  stepped  over  them  without 
pause,  acting  in  part  from  a  spirit  of  womanly  indepen- 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  39 

dcnce,  in  part  from  awakened  pride,  and  with  something 
of  self-will ;  yet,  chiefly,  from  an  impelling  necessity  of 
her  life.  She  was  social,  and  felt  drawn  towards  society 
with  an  almost  irresistible  impulse.  There  needed  to  be 
a  warmer  atmosphere  —  more  demonstrative  love  —  ten 
derer  consideration — to  give  home  the  magnet's  power 
over  her.  Even  these  could  not  have  made  her  content 
with  a  semi-cloistered  existence.  She  could  love  her  hus 
band  (if  worthy  of  her  love)  ;  be  true  to  him  in  all  things ; 
be  faithful  to  every  home-duty,  and  yet  enjoy  society  with 
the  keenest  relish.  But,  such  was  the  limited  range  of 
Jansen's  ideas,  that  he  was  not  able  to  understand  how 
his  wife  could  love  society,  without  a  decrease  in  her  love 
of  her  husband  and  the  love  of  her  home. 

"  We  cannot  serve  two  masters,"  so  he  reasoned  on  the 
subject,  as  he  turned  it  over  and  over  in  the  circumscribed 
chamber  of  his  thoughts.  "  If  she  prefers  social  life  to 
home  life,  then  she  loves  society  better  than  her  home. 
If  she  prefers  the  company  of  other  men  to  the  company 
of  her  husband,  does  she  not  put  them  above  her  hus 
band  ?  " 

So  he  blinded,  irritated,  and  hardened  himself  causeless 
ly  ;  and  this,  simply  because  he  could  not  comprehend 
Madeline.  On  the  other  side,  Madeline  did  not  compre 
hend  her  husband.  If  she  could  have  looked  into  his 
mind,  and  thus  been  able  to  understand  something  of  his 
peculiar  way  of  regarding  things,  the  result  of  mental 
conformation  and  habits  of  life,  she  would  have  seen  it 
best  to  deny  herself  in  many  things,  in  order  that  he 
might  not  read  her  actions  as  against  honorable  princi 
ples. 

Selfish  and  arbitrary  !    Alas  for  domestic  felicity,  when 


40  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

a  wife  so  interprets  her  husband !  Madeline  was  not  able 
to  give  any  higher  interpretation  to  her  husband's  conduct 
on  too  many  occasions,  when,  instinctively,  self-will,  stimu 
lated  by  pride,  nerved  her  to  opposition. 

Carl  Jansen  was  not  what  we  call  an  emotional  man. 
He  neither  enjoyed  nor  suffered  intensely  —  nor  in  parox 
ysms  —  never  forgot  himself  in  the  overflow  of  pleasure 
or  pain ;  but  he  was  a  brooding  man,  and  would  spread  his 
wings  over  a  false  idea,  warming  it  into  vitality,  and  bring 
ing  into  life  a  host  of  suggestions  falser  than  the  original ; 
and  what  was  worse,  he  too  often  acted  on  these  sugges 
tions  as  if  they  were  truths.  Self-poised,  quiet,  firm,  res 
olute,  he  was  one  of  those  persons  who,  after  adopting  a 
line  of  conduct,  generally  pursue  it  to  the  end,  bearing 
down  —  sometimes  trampling  down  —  whatever  sets  itself 
in  opposition. 

Madeline,  on  the  other  hand,  was,  as  we  have  seen, 
emotional  in  a  high  degree.  She  could  enjoy  intensely, 
and  she  could  suffer  intensely ;  and  what  was  peculiar  in 
her  case,  the  dominant  wave  usually  effaced  all  marks  of 
that  which  preceded.  To  her  husband  she  was,  on  this 
account,  inexplicable.  Things  that  would  have  set  him 
to  brooding  —  that  would  have  clouded  him  for  days  — 
passed  with  her  as  the  morning  cloud  and  the  early  dew. 
Now  it  was  a  rain  of  tears,  and  now  a  flood  of  sunshine. 
At  dawn  in  the  valley,  and  at  noon  upon  the  mountain  top. 

It  was  impossible  for  a  man  of  Carl  Jansen's  range  of 
ideas  to  comprehend  such  a  woman.  Narrow  men  are 
always  exacting  of  prerogative.  He  was  the  husband  and 
the  head.  Assuming  this  as  the  position  of  superiority 
he  saw  very  clearly  that  it  was  his  duty  as  the  head,  to' 
rule,  and  the  duty  of  his  wife  to  obey.  The  fact  that  she 


OUT   IN   TITE   WORLD.  41 

Lad  defied  his  authority  at  Mrs.  Woodbine's  could  never 
be  forgotten  —  it  was  never  forgiven.  Often  since  then 
he  had  laid  his  hand  upon  her  to  hold  her  back,  as  she 
was  moving  in  ways  he  did  not  approve ;  but  as  often, 
she  had  disregarded  the  intimations.  Remembering  the 

<j  o 

unhappy  consequences  which  had  followed  the  decided 
course  taken  at  Mrs.  Woodbine's,  Jansen  had  hesitated 
on  the  question  of  assuming,  and  at  the  same  time  main 
taining  authority.  Many  times  he  had  resolved  to  assert 
the  right,  held  as  he  deemed,  by  virtue  of  the  relation  as 
sumed  in  marriage,  but  not  prepared  for  consequences 
that  might  follow,  he  yet  hesitated.  Madeline  was  a  riddle 
to  him.  The  laws  of  mental  action,  as  educed  from  his 
own  motives  and  consciousness,  did  not  appear  to  govern 
in  her  case.  He  never  knew  how  to  determine  the  result 
of  forces  acting  in  her  mind.  It  was  a  mystery  to  him 
that  she  had  no  sensitiveness  to  the  world's  opinion.  This 
was  his  weak  point  —  "  How  will  it  appear  ?  "  «  What  will 
he  think  ?  "  or,  "  what  will  she  say  ?  "  Forever,  with  him, 
action  was  coming  to  this  standard,  while  she  lived,  and 
moved,  and  had  her  being,  in  an  almost  entire  uncon 
sciousness  of  observation. 

It  must  needs  be  that  minds  so  diversely  constituted 
come,  sooner  or  later,  into  stem  and  unyielding  antago 
nism.  Nothing  but  genuine  Christian  virtues,  the  growth 
of  self-denial,  can  save  from  this  unhappy  result,  and  in 
the  case  of  Jansen  and  his  wife,  only  natural  feelings  and 
considerations  had  influence. 


CHAPTER  V. 


HE  two  months  passed  at  Mrs.  Wood, 
bine's  had  not  been  useful  to  Madeline. 
Mrs.  Woodbine  was  a  person  who  gen 
erally  managed  to  obtain  considerable 
influence  over  young  and  ardent  in 
dividuals  of  her  own  sex.  She  had 
a  great  deal  of  mental  magnetism  about 
her,  attracting  or  repelling  strongly. 
Tolerably  well  educated  in  the  begin 
ning,  she  had,  by  reading  and  inter 
course  with  intelligent  minds,  enlarg 
ed  her  sphere  of  thought  until  it  embraced  philosophi 
cal  and  social  themes.  Not  being  a  woman  of  well- 
grounded  principles,  it  followed  naturally  that  she  lost  her 
self  in  a  region,  the  exploration  of  which  had  been  at 
tempted  without  chart  or  compass.  It  was  a  region  how 
ever  in  which  she  saw  much  that  appeared  true,  and  in 
agreement  with  the  laws  of  human  life.  But  as  she  had 
accepted  theories  of  social  order  not  based  on  those  im 
mutable  laws  established  for  the  soul  by  God,  it  was  scarce- 


OUT  IN   THE   WORLD.  43 

ly  possible  for  her  to  attempt  the  correction  of  social  dis 
order  without  shattering,  by  her  meddlesome  hand,  a  hun 
dred  delicate  fibres,  where  she  brought  a  single  one  back 
into  harmony. . 

Women  of  Mrs.  Woodbine's  peculiar  character  of  mind, 
culture  and  temperament,  have  generally  a  large  amount 
of  sympathy  with  those  of  their  own  sex  who  are  wedded 
to  "  brutes,"  and  "  domestic  tyrants,"  and  elect  themselves 
advisors  to  all  unhappy  women  who  are  indelicate  or  in 
discreet  enough  to  open  their  hearts  to  them.  If  they  do 
any  good,  it  is  so  largely  counterbalanced  by  harm,  that 
we  shall  scarcely  err  in  unqualified  condemnation  of  the 
class. 

Of  course,  an  incident  so  strongly  marked  as  that  which 
befel  Mrs.  Jansen,  could  not  pass  without  comment.  The 
fact  that  her  husband  went  away  and  left  her  to  return 
home  alone  at  midnight,  was  too  clear  an  indication  of  a 
serious  quarrel,  not  to  be  accepted  as  evidence.  Then,  the 
brief  conflict  in  the  music  room  had  been  observed.  Also, 
the  nearly  exclusive  attentions  of  Mr.  Guyton  during  the 
whole  evening.  A  dozen  little  theories  were  started,  first 
taking  the  shape  of  surmise,  then  assuming  the  form  of 
positive  declarations.  The  ears  of  Mrs.  Woodbine  were 
open  to  all  those,  taking  them  in  greedily.  It  soon  be 
came  a  settled  conclusion  in  her  mind  that  Madeline  had 
a  self-willed,  exacting  young  man  for  a  husband,  who,  un 
less  she  early  stood  to  her  rights,  might  reduce  her  to  the 
condition  of  a  slave.  Her  beauty,  her  sweetness  of  man 
ner,  her  spirit,  her  high  social  qualities,  interested  Mrs. 
Woodbine,  and  she  determined  to  use  whatever  art  she 
possessed,  in  order  to  save  her  from  sinking  into  the  con 
dition  of  a  host  of  wives,  whom  she  pitied  for  their  help- 


44  OUT   IN   THE    WORLD. 

lessness  or  scorned  for  their  mean  submission  to  a  pow 
er  which  in  her  view  theyushould  have  cast  off  and  de 
spised.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  Mrs.  Jansen  began  to  re 
cover  from  the  worst  effects  of  her  sudden  illness,  Mrs. 
Woodbine  commenced  the  work  of  poisoning  her  mind  to 
wards  her  husband.  We  use  a  strong  but  true  word  when 
we  say  poisoning.  She  did  not  in  the  beginning  allude 
even  remotely  to  Mr.  Jansen,  or  the  disturbed  relation 
which  she  knew  existed,  but  proceeded  more  cautiously, 
and  by  a  surer  way  to  success.  In  the  first  place,  she 
spoke  of  the  social  inequality  of  men  and  women.  She 
was  well  posted  on  this  subject,  and  few  men  could  listen 
for  half  an  hour  to  Mrs.  Woodbine,  without  a  shame  spot 
on  the  cheek.  Men-made  laws  and  customs,  wherever 
they  affected  woman,  would  be  shown  by  her  to  be  the 
meanest  of  tyrannies,  because  they  oppressed  the  helpless 
She  had  peculiar  eloquence  when  on  this  theme,  and  was 
scarcely  to  be  resisted. 

Human  nature  is  weak,  and  in  nothing  is  this  weakness 
—  or,  if  you  will,  depravity  —  shown  more  widely  than  in 
a  love  of  ruling  or  domineering  over  others.  And  it  too 
often  happens  that  your  emancipated  slave  of  a  real  or 
imagined  tyranny,  gives  the  first  use  of  his  freed  hands  to 
binding  some  weaker  fellow.  So  it  was  at  least  with  Mrs. 
Woodbine.  She  celebrated  perpetually,  her  emancipation 
from  marital  subordination,  by  ruling  her  husband  with  a 
rod  of  iron.  It  so  happened  that  he  was  a  peace-loving 
man,  and  of  inferior  mind ;  one  always  ready  to  give  way 
rather  than  contend.  He  had  married  Mrs.  Woodbine,  be 
cause  he  admired  her  brilliant  mental  qualities  even  more 
than  her  personal  charms,  and  he  had  continued  to  admire 
her  even  though  she  too  often  made  him  appear  mean  and 


OUT   m   THE   WORLD.  45 

ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  It  was  well  for  Mrs. 
Woodbine  that  such  was  his  character.  If  he  had  been  of 
a  different  spirit,  they  would  have  lived  in  fierce  antago 
nism,  or  been  driven  apart. 

"  I  am  your  friend,  dear,"  she  said  one  day  to  Made 
line,  who,  a  month  after  that  unhappy  evening,  sat  up  in 
bed,  with  the  soft  glow  of  returning  health  just  tinging 
her  pale  cheeks.  Mrs.  Woodbine  kissed  her  as  she  spoke, 
and  looked  fondly  into  her  eyes.  "  Nay,  not  a  friend 
only,"  she  added,  kissing  Madeline  again  —  "  that  word  is 
too  cold  to  express  my  feelings.  In  the  past  few  weeks, 
you  have  grown  into  my  heart.  I  love  you,  my  sweet 
child !  You  seem  like  one  of  my  own  flesh  and  blood. 
Confide  in  me,  as  if  I  were  your  mother." 

Madeline  was  touched  by  this  exhibition  of  tenderness, 
and  accepted  it  as  genuine.  She  had  been  lying  with 
shut  eyes,  thinking  sadly  over  the  late  unhappy  affair,  and 
with  less  of  self-justification  than  before.  Some  rays  of 
new  light  were  stealing  into  her  mind,  and  she  was  begin 
ning  to  see  the  relation  in  which  she  stood  to  her  husband 
as  less  favoi'able  to  herself  than  it  had  at  first  appeared. 
As  a  young  married  woman,  she  might  not  have  acted 
with  due  reserve  in  company.  Perhaps  she  had  too  com 
pletely  ignored  her  husband  during  the  late  party.  These 
thoughts  were  troubling  her  at  the  moment  when  Mrs. 
Woodbine  touched  her  pensive  lips  with  a  kiss,  and  asked 
for  her  love  and  confidence.  Tears  filled  Madeline's  eyes 
as  she  looked  up,  smiling  a  sad,  but  thankful  smile,  into 
Mrs.  Woodbine's  face. 

"  What  troubles  you,  darling  ?  There  is  something  on 
your  mind."  The  lady  drew  her  arm  around  Madeline's 
neck,  and  her  head  down  against  her  bosom.  Great  sobs 


46  OUT   I2f   THE   WORLD. 

heaved  the  breast  of  Madeline ;  the  pent-up  trouble  of  her 
soul  gave  way.  After  a  period  of  sobbing  and  weeping, 
she  grew  calm.  In  this  calm,  Mrs.  Woodbine  said  — 

"You  are  young,  my  child  —  have  just  stepped  across 
the  threshold  of  womanhood.  Everything  is  new  and 
strange.  Already,  I  doubt  not,  your  feet  have  found 
rough  places  —  have  been  pierced,  perhaps,  by  thorns. 
It  is  the  lot  of  all.  Your  mother  is  not  living," 

M  O  no.     She  died  years  ago." 

a  And  your  father  ?  " 

"  He  is  dead  also." 

u  Have  you  no  near  female  relative  ?" 

"  None,  except  an  aunt  on  my  father's  side ;  but,  there 
is  no  sympathy  between  us.  She  never  understood  me." 

There  followed  a  puuse.  Then,  speaking  very  tender 
ly,  Mrs.  Woodbine  said  — 

"  Let  me  be  to  you  mother  and  friend.  You  have  al 
ways  interested  me ;  and  since,  by  a  strange,  perhaps  not 
altogether  unfortunate  circumstance,  you  have  been 
thrown  into  the  very  bosom  of  my  family,  my  heart  has 
gone  out  towards  you  with  an  irresistible  yearning.  There 
is  something  on  your  mind.  You  need  a  friend.  You 
may  confide  in  me  if  you  will." 

Madeline  looked  with  grateful  eyes  at  Mrs.  Woodbine. 
No  doubt  shadowed  her.  She  accepted  the  proffer  of 
love  and  counsel,  as  if  made  by  one  who  was  the  very 
soul  of  truth  and  honor.  Ruled  by  the  dominant  im 
pulse —  such  was  her  character  —  she  lifted  the  veil  that 
no  wife  should  lift  to  a  stranger ;  nay,  unless  in  the  rarest 
of  cases,  not  even  to  a  sister  or  a  mother;  and  let  this 
meddlesome  woman  of  the  world  see  what  was  in  the 
most  sacred  chamber  of  her  life. 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  47 

UI  thought  so."  This  was  the  woman's  ejaculation, 
after  Madeline  had  uncovered  her  heart,  and  made  a  troub 
led  confession  of  the  doubts  which  had  been  intruding 
themselves.  She  was  bewildered  in  mind,  and  spoke  that 
she  might  receive  counsel. 

"  I  thought  so."  It  is  not  surprising,  that  Madeline 
looked  up  at  the  woman's  face,  with  a  countenance  full  of 
questionings. 

"  What  ?  "  she  asked,  a  shade  dropping  over  her  eyes'. 

"  I  thought  the  trouble  was  here." 

"  Where  ?  "  The  shade  was  deeper  in  Madeline's  eyes. 
Mystery  always  lays  a  weight  upon  the  feelings. 

"  Dear  child  !  "  said  Mrs.  Woodbine,  with  a  new  ardor 
of  affectionate  interest  in  her  manner,  "  you  are  accusing 
and  tormenting  yourself  without  cause.  I  cannot  see  that, 
as  a  wife,  you  have  failed  in  anything.  You  are  true  to 
your  husband  in  every  thought  and  feeling.  What  more 
is  possible  ?  If  more  is  demanded  who  has  more  to  give  ? 
Not  you,  my  child  —  not  you ! " 

The  large  brown  eyes  of  Madeline  dilated.  A  look  of 
surprise,  mingled  with  vague  questioning,  came  into  them. 
She  did  not  answer,  but  kept  gazing  at  Mrs.  Woodbine. 
Dimly  the  meaning  of  what  was  suggesting  began  to  ap 
pear.  Had  she  not  been  true  in  every  thought  and  feeling 
to  her  husband  ?  What  more  was  possible  ? 

"  Men  rarely  understand  women."  The  tone  in  which 
Mrs.  Woodbine  said  this  was  gentle  and  regretful,  her 
voice  falling  to  a  sigh  on  the  last  word.  "  This,  however," 
she  added,  "  is  scarcely  a  matter  of  surprise  ;  their  train 
ing,  education,  and  associations  are  so  different.  A  false 
idea,  strong  from  generations  of  predominance  in  the  public 
mind  touching  the  position  of  woman,  warps  the  judgment 


48  OUT   IX   THE    WORLD. 

of  every  man.  He  thinks  himself  superior.  Assumes  to  be 
the  head,  in  marriage,  with  the  right  to  rule.  Most  women 
—  a  souless  herd,  if  I  must  say  it —  accept  this  doctrine, 
and  passively  submit.  A  few,  of  nobler  essence,  stand  firm. 
Generally,  the  waves  rush  against  them.  Some  are  swept 
away — many  abide  to  the  end  in  their  noble  defiance  of 
wrong;  calm,  enduring,  grand  in  their  assertion  of  equal 
ity.  I  have  known  many  such,  and  I  love  and  honor 
them." 

The  countenance  of  Mrs.  "Woodbine  glowed  with  fervor. 
Her  fine  eyes  were  full  of  enthusiasm.    Mrs.  Jansen 
looked  at  her  in  a  kind  of  maze;  half  surprised  —  half 
startled — half  in  admiration. 

"  You,  my  dear,  are  one  of  the  noble  sisterhood." 
Madeline  did  not  start  in  surprise  when  Mrs.  Woodbine 
ventured  upon  this  remark.  She  was  in  the  sphere  of  the 
woman's  strong  magnetism.  Nay,  instead  of  being  thrown 
instantly  on  her  guard,  she  felt  something  like  a  glow  of 
pleasure  in  being  so  classed. 

"  Do  not  understand  me,  my  dear,"  added  Mrs.  Wood 
bine,  in  a  low,  penetratifig  voice,  "  as  assuming  that  your 
case  is  an  extreme  one,  as  meaning  to  prophecy  a  life  of 
antagonism  towards  your  husband.  I  do  not  think  him 
made  of  the  hard  stuff  out  of  which  some  masculines  are 
built  into  the  image  of  manhood.  But,  he  is  a  man,  and 
all  men  have  in  them  the  germ  of  tyrants.  If  you  permit 
him  to  be  the  master  in  everything,  he  will  not  fail  to  ac 
cept  the  office  of  ruler.  If  you  let  him  see  that  you  are 
co-equal  —  possess  a  soul  as  distinctly  individual,  and  of 
right  as  self-asserting  as  his  own — he  will  admit  your 
claims,  and  you  will  be  co-ordinate  and  harmonious.  There 
will,  in  the  nature  of  things,  be  an  occasional  jar.  There 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  49 

nas  been  already.  But,  if  you  continue  true  to  yourself; 
firm  in  the  maintenance  of  what  is  your  right  by  nature  ; 
never  yielding  to  command — yet  always  faithful  in  clear 
ly  defined  duties,  you  need  have  no  fear  about  the  result." 

"  So  far,"  answered  Madeline,  carried  away  by  her  dan 
gerous  friend,  and  seeing  in  the  light  of  her  eyes  —  "I  have 
not  yielded  to  arbitrary  demand.  It  is  not  my  nature. 
If  I  perceive  a  thing  to  be  wrong,  I  will  not  do  it.  If  I  see 
it  to  be  right,  and  only  an  arbitrary  opposition  is  set  up 
against  me,  I  cannot  be  held  back.  It  is  my  nature." 

"  So  I  have  read  you,  my  child ;  and  therefore  it  is  that 
I  say  you  are  one  of  the  noble  sisterhood." 

Poor  Madeline !  This  woman,  at  the  very  first  effort, 
had  succeeded  in  drawing  her  completely  within  the  circle 
of  her  dangerous  influence.  The  proffered  friendship  was 
accepted  —  the  solicited  confidence  given.  From  that  day 
during  the  three  or  four  weeks  that  elapsed  before  Made 
line  could  be  safely  removed  to  her  own  home,  this  en 
chantress  threw  deeper  and  deeper  spells  around  her. 
For  hours  she  talked  with  her  on  the  absorbing  themes  to 
which  she  had  given  so  much  thought.  —  On  the  social 
disabilities  of  her  sex  —  on  man's  dreadful  wrongs  to  wo 
man  —  on  the  false  ideas  that  prevailed  touching  just 
equality  in  the  marriage  bond  —  on  the  wife's  duty  to  her 
self —  and  topics  of  a  kindred  nature. 

Unhappily  for  Mrs.  Jansen,  Mrs.  "Woodbine  first  taught 
her  to  think  and  reason.  So  far  in  life,  she  had  been  main 
ly  the  child  of  feeling  and  impulse.  A  reflective  being, 
in  any  high  sense,  up  to  this  time,  she  was  not.  She  felt, 
she  perceived,  and  she  acted.  That  was  the  simple  process. 
But,  during  these  few  weeks,  Mrs.  Woodbine  had  lifted 
her  into  another  region —  had  opened  the  door  into  aiioth- 


50  OUT   IN   THE   WOKLD. 

er  chamber  of  her  mind.  A  theory,  snstained  by  facts 
and  reasonings  that  seemed  clear  as  noonday,  had  been 
presented  and  accepted  ;  and  she  only  wondered  that  her 
own  thoughts  had  not  long  ago  leaped  to  like  convictions. 
A  few  intimate  friends  who  sympathized  with  Mrs.  Wood 
bine  in  her  peculiar  ideas,  were  admitted  to  the  chamber 
of  Madeline,  and  she  heard  many  conversations  on  the 
subject  to  which  we  have  referred,  and  listened  to  them 
eagerly.  Thus  her  mind  was  led  to  dwell  upon  them,  and 
thought  to  gather  arguments  in  favor  of  that  womanly 
independence  her  nature  prompted  her  to  assert.  When, 
at  last,  returning  strength  warranted  her  removal,  she 
went  back  to  the  home  of  her  husband,  changed  and  ma 
tured  to  a  degree  that  caused  her  often  to  look  down  into 
her  own  consciousness  and  wonder. 

We  shall  not  linger  to  trace  all  the  progressive  steps  of 
alienation  that  too  steadily  separated  the  lives  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Jansen.  The  causes  have  been  made  apparent.  Two 
such  minds,  acting  without  concession,  and  without  self- 
denial,  must,  in  the  nature  of  things,  steadily  recede  from 
each  other.  And  so,  nnhappily,  did  they  recede. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


HEY  had  been  married  for  nearly  two 
vears<  -^n  a^  tnat  time,  the  process  of 
seParation  went  on.  This  was  not  ap 
parent  to  common  observers  —  a  few 
only  saw  the  growing  incompatibility. 
The  fascination  thrown  around  Mrs. 
Jansen  by  Mrs.  Woodbine  continued. 
This  woman  held  her  almost  complete 
ly  under  her  influence.  Jansen  under 
stood  Mrs.  Woodbine's  character,  and 
did  all  in  his  power  to  draw  his  w^ife 
away  from  her  sphere ;  but  in  this"  he  failed  altogether, 
only  increasing  Madeline's  misapprehension  of  motives 
by  the  pertinacity  of  his  opposition. 

One  day  some  scandalous  reports  reached  his  ears,  in 
which  the  name  of  a  lady  was  used  whom  he  knew  to  be 
an  intimate  friend  of  Mrs.  Woodbine,  and  a  constant 
visitor  at  her  house.  Mr.  Guyton's  name  was  also  men 
tioned.  There  was,  or  at  least  Jansen  imagined  as  much, 
something. in  the  relator's  thought  behind  his  speech,  not 


52  OUT   IN    THE   WOKLD. 

felt  proper  to  communicate,  and  his  quick  inference  was 
that  his  wife's  name  had  been  in  some  way  connected  with 
the  scandal. 

"  There  must  be  an  end  of  all  this ! "  So  he  said  reso 
lutely,  speaking  with  himself.  I  have  opposed,  remonstrat 
ed,  argued,  but  to  no  effect.  Madeline  has  set  my  wishes 
and  my  will  at  naught.  But,  this  woman  must  be  given 
up !  I  can  no  longer  permit  an  association  that  is  hurting 
my  wife's  reputation,  if  not  corrupting  her  heart.  If  she 
be  without  suspicion  and  without  prudence  —  if  she  will 
not  look  at  danger  though  it  stand  in  her  path,  my  duty 
as  a  husband  compels  me  to  interfere.  If  love  and  per 
suasion  avail  not,  authority  and  force  must  come  as  a  last 
resort." 

Jansen  felt  himself  to  be  the  superior  and  the  strong 
er  ;  and  scarcely  doubted,  that,  under  a  stern  assertion  of 
prerogative,  would  come  submission.  "Within  an  hour 
after  hearing  the  scandalous  report,  he  met  his  wife  on 
the  street. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  tone  that  was 
so  full  of  the  right  to  ask,  that  Madeline's  spirit  rebelled. 

"  Shopping,"  she  coldly  answered. 

Jansen  turned  and  walked  in  the  direction  she  was  go 
ing. 

"  I  wish  to  say  a  word  or  two."  His  manner  put  his 
wife  on  her  guard. 

"  You  are  not  going  to  Mrs.  Woodbine's,"  he  said. 

"Yes,  I  shall,  in  all  probability,  go  there  while  I  am 
out. 

"  No,  Madeline,  not  there  any  more.  Scandals,  touch 
ing  persons  who  visit  at  Mrs.  Woodbine's  are  abroad,  and 
I  cannot  have  your  name  connected  with  them.  But,  wo 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  53 

will  talk  all  this  over  when  I  come  home.  In  the  mean 
time  do  what  I  say." 

Madeline  was  silent. 

"You  understand  what  I  mean,"  said  her  husband. 
There  was,  in  his  voice,  an  assumption  of  authority  that 
roused  the  pride  of  his  wife. 

"  Good  morning !  "  she  said,  abruptly,  turning  from  him 
and  crossing  the  street. 

Jansen  was  confounded ;  then  indignant ;  then  angry. 
He  read  this  action  on  the  part  of  his  wife,  as  a  defiance 
of  his  assumed  prerogative.  If  there  had  remained  with 
him  any  tenderness  of  feeling  towards  Madeline,  it  retired 
beyond  all  range  of  perception,  or  died  out. 

In  the  evening,  after  tea,  he  asked,  in  cold,  but  repress 
ed  voice  — 

"  Were  you  at  Mrs.  "Woodbine's  to-day  ?  " 

They  had  met  in  mutual  reserve,  and  remained,  until 
this  time,  almost  silent. 

"  Yes."    A  simple,  quiet,  almost  indifferent  "  Yes." 

"After  what  I  said?"  There  was  little  change  in 
Carl  Jansen's  tone  of  voice. 

"  Yes,"  in  the  same  indifferent  voice. 

"  I  said  there  were  reports  abroad  touching  the  good 
fame  of  a  lady  who  visited  there." 

"Well?  What  of  that?"  She  looked  him  strongly 
in  the  face.  Her  voice  was  firmer. 

"  I  have  your  good  fame  in  keeping  —  " 

Madeline's  eyes  flashed  instantly. 

"  So,  it  is  my  good  fame  that  is  compromised !  Well, 
sir !"  —  Her  suddenly  rising  excitement  carried  her  away, 
and  she  became  almost  tragic  in  her  manner.  — "  And 
did  you  assert  your  manly  right  to  defend  your  wife's  hon 
or,  and  punish  the  false  defamer  ?  " 


54  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"  If  my  wife,"  replied  Jansen,  not  undeceiving  Madeline, 
44  in  the  face  of  warning  and  remonstrance,  persists  in  asso 
ciating  with  persons  of  questionable  reputation,  I  shall 
not  be  Quixotic  enough  to  quarrel  with  every  one  who 
may  happen  to  class  her  with  the  company  she  keeps." 

"  You  make  a  false  assertion,  sir !"  Madeline  was  grow 
ing  more  excited. 

"Take  care,  madam !"  Jansen  spoke  in  warning. 

"  I  say,  that  your  assertion,  that  I  keep  company  with 
persons  of  questionable  reputation,  is  false!"  She  spoke 
in  a  calmer  voice,  but  with  deeper  anger,  and  more  defi 
ance. 

"You  must  not  use  such  language  to  me,"  answered 
the  husband.  His  usually  colorless  face  was  now  almost 
white.  But  he  showed  no  agitation  of  manner. 

"  Guard  your  own  tongue,  then,"  answered  Madeline, 
sharply. 

"  Surely,  if  I  see  a  wolf  on  your  path,  I  may  speak 
without  offence !  What  folly  is  this  to  which  you  are 
giving  yourself  over  ?  I  am  amazed  !" 

"It  is  easy  enough  to  cry  wolf,"  retorted  Madeline. 
44  But,  I  do  not  choose  to  have  my  friends  so  designated. 
So,  I  pray  you  give  better  heed  to  your  speech.  It  does 
not  suit  my  temper.  And  further,  Carl,  let  me  say  to  you 
)•  once  and  forever,  that  any  assumption  of  authority  on 
your  part  will  not  be  favorably  regarded  on  mine.  You 
cannot  influence  me  in  the  slightest  thing  by  word  of  com- 
•  mand,  unless  it  be  to  act  squarely  in  opposition.  So  t:ike 
heed !  I  will  walk  in  the  world  by  your  side,  as  your 
wife  and  your  equal ;  but  not  a  step  behind,  in  submissive 
acknowledgment  of  inferiority.  I  am  no  slave,  sir ! " 

Madeline  drew  herself  up  proudly. 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  55 

Now,  to  Carl  Janscn,  taking  his  views  of  the  marriage 
relation,  which  placed  man  at  the  head,  as  the  wiser  and 
stronger,  and  woman  below  him,  as  the  weaker  vessel, 
there  was  outspoken  rebellion  in  this.  They  had  been  sit 
ting  face  to  face,  the  one  looking  steadily  in  strong  self- 
assertion  at  the  other.  Half  confounded,  Jansen  arose 
and  crossing  the  room,  stood  with  his  back  to  his  wife? 
thinking  rapidly,  yet  with  thought  obscured,  and  so  grop 
ing  in  partial  blindness. 

Naturally  calm  and  proud  —  with  no  great  depth  of 
feeling  —  of  a  persistent  nature,  and  sternly  resolute  in 
walking  the  ways  he  thought  in  the  line  of  right  and  duty* 
Jansen  was  standing  now  on  the  Rubicon  of  his  own  and 
his  wife's  destiny.  Was  it  possible  for  him  to  yield  in 
this  open  contest  ?  Should  he  move  back  or  pass  over  ? 
Behind  him,  he  saw  humiliation  —  the  abandonment  of 
right  and  prerogative  —  submission  to  an  inferior  power, 
involving  disgrace  and  loss  of  self-respect,  —  beyond  this 
Rubicon  was  a  dark  void,  into  the  bosom  of  which  sight 
could  not  penetrate ;  yet  he  knew  it  to  be  full  of  evil 
tilings  —  an  abyss  of  suffering  to  himself,  and  of  sorrow 
and  shame  for  his  wife. 

For  a  moment,  as  he  stood  thus  pondering,  a  good  an 
gel  uncovered  the  past,  and  flooded  his  soul  with  the  ten 
derness  of  early  love.  He  saw  Madeline  as  she  had  once 
looked  in  his  eyes,  the  embodiment  of  all  sweet  concep 
tions  —  pure,  loving,  joyful  as  a  summer  day.  His  heart 
swelled  Avith  old  emotions.  He  was  beginning  to  move 
back  from  the  Rubicon.  But  a  darker  spirit  was  near 
and  shut  the  page  from  view.  He  was  cold,  stern,  reso 
lute  again. 

"  I  cannot  sink  my  manhood !    If  she  drags  down  ruin 


56  OUT  IN  THE  WOKLD. 

upon  her  head,  the  blame  and  the  consequences  are  her 
own."  So  he  spoke  firmly  with  himself.  Turning,  at 
length,  he  came  back,  and  sat  down  in  front  of  his  wife.  . 
She  had  not  moved.  He  looked  at  her,  and  she  returned 
his  gaze,  with  wide  open  eyes.  There  was  no  change  in 
her  manner ;  no  sign  of  weakness.  This  pricked  his  feel 
ings  like  the  keen  entrance  of  a  dagger  point.  He  felt 
irritated. 

"  We  cannot  live  in  open  conflict,  Madeline,"  he  said. 

She  did  not  reply. 

"  For  one  I  could  not  endure  such  a  life.  It  would  be 
a  hell  on  earth." 

Still  she  made  no  answer. 

"Madeline !"  The  tone  was  too  imperative ;  too  full  of 
the  man's  self-assertion.  There  had  just  come  stealing 
into  Madeline's  heart  a  softer  feeling  —  her  true  woman's 
nature  was  stirring.  But  the  lifting  wave  swept  back  un 
der  this  wind  of  authority. 

"  Madeline !  unless  we  are  both  true  to  our  marriage 
compact  —  unless  the  just,  heaven-ordained  relation  of 
man  and  wife  be  faithfully  regarded  —  there  is  no  hope 
of  peace,  far  less  of  happiness  for  you  or  for  me.  Consid 
er  !  Pause,  I  implore  you !  Do  not  advance  a  step  far 
ther  in  the  way  you  are  going.  Do  not  utterly  defy  me. 
I  cannot  bear  such  a  defiance ;  nor  be  answerable  for  the 
consequences." 

The  head  of  Mrs.  Jansen  assumed  a  prouder  attitude. 

"  Defiance  ?  I  do  not  understand  you  ?  "  she  returned, 
in  a  clear,  steady  voice.  "  Does  the  stream  defy  the  ob 
structing  stone  that  casts  itself  blindly  into  the  free  cur 
rent  !  —  or  the  stone  defy  the  stream  ?  " 

She  paused  for  him  to  answer.    But  her  question  only 


OUT   IN   THE    WORLD.  57 

annoyed  him.  He  saw  its  application,  but  held  the  allu 
sion  to  be  irrelevant.  There  was,  on  his  part,  only  a  ges 
ture  of  impatience.  He  grew  blinder  and  harder. 

"  Equal,  Carl,  equal ! "  said  Madeline,  seeing  that  he  did 
not  answer.  "  There  can  be  no  other  peaceful  relation 
between  us.  From  the  beginning,  you  have  treated  me 
as  though  I  were  an  inferior ;  and  my  whole  nature  has 
been  in  revolt.  For  a  time,  I  bore  with  an  assumption  of 
authority  over  me  not  warranted  by  our  relation  to  each 
other  —  an  authority  that  was  irritating  and  offensive. 
But,  I  shall  bear  it  no  longer.  You  must  step  down  from 
your  attitude  of  command,  and  if  you  wish  to  influence 
me,  come  with  reason  and  suggestion.  No  other  way 
will  suit  me.  As  to  the  word  defiance,  as  applied  to  my 
conduct,  I  pray  you,  never  again  let  it  pass  your  lips. 
You  may  influence  me  by  gentleness,  by  kind  considera 
tion,  by  love,  Carl,  such  as  you  promised  me ;  but  never 
by  command.  I  do  not  comprehend  the  word  obedience, 
as  touching  my  free  thought  and  act,  except  as  referring 
to  God ! " 

"I  think,"  answered  Jansen,  in  a  cold,  cutting  voice, 
"  that  the  words  of  the  marriage  ceremonial,  to  which 
you  deliberately  responded,  were,  '  Wilt  thou  obey  him, 
and  serve  him ;  love,  honor,  &c.'  The  form  was  not  mine. 
The  church  made  it,  and  all  good  men  and  women  sub 
scribe  to  it  as  expressing  the  true  relation  of  man  and 
wife.  There  was  no  compulsion.  You  went  of  your  own. 
free  will,  to  the  altar,  and  so  registered  your  marriage 
vows.  If  you  choose  to  cast  them  to  the  winds,  the  evil 
and  the  responsibility  must  rest  on  your  own  head.  But 
I  pray  you  in  heaven's  name,  to  pause  !  You  have  lived 
with  me,  now,  for  two  years,  and  in  that  time  gained  some 
3* 


58  OUT   IN   THE   WOULD. 

knowledge  of  my  character.  I  ain  not  impulsive,  nor 
given  to  quick  changes ;  but  I  am,  by  nature,  inflexible. 
I  endeavor  always  to  walk  as  close  to  the  right  as  possi 
ble  ;  and  when  I  am  assured  as  to  the  right,  I  move  on 
ward,  never  stopping  to  question  about  consequences." 

"I  have  only  one  thing  to  answer,"  said  Madeline,  her 
voice  dropping  to  as  cold  a  tone  as  that  which  her  hus 
band  had  used.  "  Take  my  advice,  and  stop  where  you 
are  to  question  of  consequences;  or,  when  too  late  to 
question,  you  may  regret  your  inflexibility.  Remember, 
that  '  love  has  readier  will  than  fear.'  Remember,  also, 
that  there  are  natures  so  organized  that  they  cannot  yield 
to  force.  Mine  is  of  that  order." 

She  ceased,  and  waited  for  him  to  reply.  But  he  re 
mained  silent.  For  all  his  consciousness  of  right,  and  for 
all  his  natural  inflexibility,  there  was  something  in  the 
tone  and  speech  of  his  wife,  that  gave  him  a  warning  to 
pause.  He  clearly  understood  her  to  be  in  earnest ;  and 
saw  the  abyss  that  lay  before  them  grow  darker  and  more 
appalling.  So,  in  doubt  as  to  what  he  should  say,  Jansen 
remained  silent.  Duiing  this  silence,  Madeline  retired 
from  the  room,  and  the  subject  was  closed  for  that  time. 

Sleep  did  not  give  a  clearer  mind  to  either  Carl  Jansen 
or  his  wife.  As  to  Madeline,  her  intercourse  with  Mrs. 
Woodbine  and  other  persons  of  her  school,  whom  she  met 
in  the  frequent  visits  made  to  that  lady's  house,  had  serious 
ly  warped  her  views  touching  her  relation  to  her  husband. 
The  idea  of  submission  in  anything,  was  scouted  among 
these  wise  women  as  a  degradation  of  the  sex.  Of  the 
essential  difference  between  what  was  masculine  and  fem 
inine,  and  therefore  of  the  true  relation  of  husband  to 
wife,  they  were  in  complete  ignorance.  Their  ideas  of 


OUT   IN   THE   WOELD.  59 

equality  gave  to  woman  a  range  of  mental  powers  exactly 
similar  to  a  man's,  and  also  a  position,  if  she  would  but 
assert  her  right,  side  by  side  with  man  in  every  worldly 
use  or  station.  The  mental  difference,  so  apparent  to  even 
a  child,  as  exhibited  in  the  ends  and  actions  of  the  two 
sexes,  was  not  referred  by  these  philosophers  to  any  essen 
tial  difference  of  spiritual  organization,  that  limited  the 
uses  of  each  within  certain  spheres  of  life,  but  to  false 
customs  and  habits,  and  to  arbitrary  social  laws.  And 
they  had  resolved  among  themselves  to  assume  a  larger 
liberty  than  woman  usually  enjoyed,  and  especially  to 
maintain  an  individual  independence  so  far  as  each  was 
concerned. 

Grafting  these  views  upon  her  natural  love  of  freedom, 
Madeline's  will  sent  out  strange  branches,  that  soon  blossom 
ed  and  bore  fruits  of  bitterness ;  and  now  she  was  lifting 
her  hand  to  pluck  and  eat  them.  If  her  husband  had  been 
a  wise  man  —  one  of  a  broader  and  warmer  nature  —  he 
might  easily  have  withdrawn  Madeline  from  the  influence 
of  these  bad  associations ;  but  he  was  narrow,  cold,  brood 
ing  and  sensitive  about  his  rights  and  prerogatives,  and, 
what  was  more  fatal  to  happiness  in  the  sensitive  rela 
tion  held  towards  his  wife,  he  had  morbid  views  of  duty, 
and  a  false  conscience.  He  could  be  hard,  inflexible,  cruel, 
even,  and  yet  stand  self-justified.  Of  his  own  acts,  he 
always  judged  approvingly  —  always  took  care,"  as  he  said 
in  his  thought,  complacently,  to  be  right.  There  was  with 
him  also  the  pride  of  consistency,  and  the  conceit  of  a 
superior  manliness,  in  not  -being  subject  to  change. 

"  I  am  not  one  to  be  driven  about  like  a  weathercock, 
by  every  changing  blast  of  opinion,"  he  would  often  say 
of  himself  proudly. 


60  OUT  IN   THE   WORLD. 

Such  they  were,  and  now  in  antagonism,  resolutely  face 
to  face,  in  the  crisis  of  their  destiny.  The  chances  for 
yielding  on  either  side  were  small ;  yet,  one  or  the  other 
must  give  way,  or  the  most  disastrous  consequences  would 
follow. 

On  the  next  morning,  after  a  silent  breakfast,  Jansen 
said  as  he  arose  from  the  table  — 

"  I  must  say  one  word,  Madeline,  before  I  go  out." 

There  was  an  effort  to  speak  softly  —  even  in  a  tone 
of  appeal;  but  far  more  apparent  in  voice  and  manner 
was  the  assertion  of  a  right  to  expect  his  wife's  compli 
ance  with  what  he  was  about  saying.  Madeline  lifted  her 
head  quietly  and  gravely.  Jansen  saw,  when  he  looked 
into  her  clear  brown  eyes,  an  unshaken  spirit.  For  a  mo 
ment  he  was  in  doubt  —  for  a  moment  he  hesitated; 
then  he  passed  with  a  blind  desperation  over  the  Rubi 
con  on  which  he  had  been  standing. 

"Don't  be  seen  at  Mrs.  "Woodbine's  again!"  The 
softness  had  died  out  of  his  voice  —  the  tone  of  appeal 
was  gone.  He  spoke  as  one  in  authority. 

The  color  went  from  Madeline's  face  instantly ;  her  eyes 
grew  hard  and  fearful ;  slight  twitching  convulsions  played 
strangely  for  a  moment  about  her  mouth ;  then,  still  as 
stone  she  sat,  not  now  looking  at  her  husband,  but  in  a 
fixed  stare  past  him,  as  if  contemplating  the  dark  future 
of  her  life. 

Jansen  was  not  moved  to  any  change  by  this  appearance, 
it  rather  made  resolution  sterner ;  he  had  stretched  forth 
his  hand  to  the  plow,  and  would  not  look  back. 

"  Remember  that  I  am  in  earnest ! "  he  said,  in  a  warn 
ing  voice,  and  went  out,  leaving  the  stony  statue  of  his 
wife  sitting  at  the  breakfast  table. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


his  desk,  that  morning,  as  Carl  Jan- 
sen  sat  over  the  letters  of  correspond 
ents,  the  writing  would  fade  under  his 
eyes,  and  in  its  place  there  would  look 
up  towards  him  the  stony  image  of  his 
wife,  as  he  parted  from  her  at  the 
breakfast  table.  He  could  not  read  the 
newspaper  for  that  interposing  image. 
It  overlaid  the  prices  current ;  the  re 
port  of  the  stock  exchange ;  the  sales 
of  real  estate ;  the  foreign  news.  If  he  opened  a  ledger 
to  examine  an  account,  he  soon  found  himself  gazing  at 
his  wife's  statue  on  the  page,  that  concealed  till  the 
figures,  and  hindered  the  results  for  which  he  was  search 
ing.  He  found  it  in  his  check  book,  his  bill  book,  his  day 
book ;  among  invoices,  and  accounts  current ;  on  bits  of 
paper  taken  up  casually.  Everywhere  he  encountered  it. 
The  eyes  did  not  look  into  his ;  but,  with  a  strange,  fear 
ful  expression,  past  him,  at  something  beyond. 

Jansen  went  out  upon  the  street ;  partly  for  business  pur- 


62  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

poses  —  partly  to  escape  the  haunting  image.  But  it  pur 
sued  him  everywhere.  Looking  at  him,  or  rather  past  him 
into  the  dark  beyond,  from  the  faces  of  men  and  women  — 
from  pictures  in  shop  windows — from  all  objects,  animate 
and  inanimate  towards  which  his  eyes  were  bent.  There 
was  no  change  of  expression  in  the  countenance  —  none  in 
the  hard,  fearful  eyes  —  none  in  the  marble  attitude.  He 
went  back  to  his  store,  to  find  the  spectre  there,  among 
books,  papers,  accounts  —  among  articles  of  merchandise 

—  in  customers'  faces  —  standing  out  bodily,  in  the  af mos- 
phere. 

But,  he  had  crossed  the  Rubicon  of  his  own  and  his 
wife's  destiny.  There  might  come  regret,  fear,  even  a  shud 
dering  sense  of  approaching  evil,  but  no  return.  Carl 
Jansen  could  not  go  to  his  wife  and  say,  "  I  was  wrong ! " 

—  could  not  take  back  the  words  last  spoken.     They  must 
stand,  though  hearts  broke,  and  the  home-temple  fell  into 
a  shapeless  ruin. 

At  dinner-time,  as  Carl  laid  his  hand  upon  his  own  door, 
there  came  a  brief  cessation  of  heart-beats  —  a  brief  stop 
page  of  the  breath.  Then  he  passed  in.  He  did  not  find 
his  wife.  She  had  gone  out,  the  servant  said,  several  hours 
before,  and  had  not  yet  returned.  Jansen  felt  uneasy. 
Then  a  weight  dropped  down  upon  him,  so  heavy  as  to 
produce  a  feeling  of  suffocation.  Doubts  began  to  obscure 
his  mind.  What  if  he  had  driven  this  sensitive,  high- 
spirited  woman  to  desperation  ?  What  if  she  had  gone 
away,  never  again  to  return,  except  through  his  confession 
of  wrong,  and  consequent  humiliation  of  himself  to  a 
woman  ?  This  last  thought,  coming  in  with  doubt  and 
fear,  stung  his  pride,  steadied  his  shaking  nerves,  and  re 
stored  him  to  inflexibility. 


OUT   IN    THE   WOULD.  63 

"  If  she  is  strong  enough,"  he  said,  bitterly,  to  himself, 
"  surely  I  am !  If  a  woman  accepts  this  ordeal,  shall  a  man 
shrink  from  it  ?  No  —  no !  By  all  that  manhood  claims 
of  strength  and  superiority  —  no !  " 

Thus,  he  further  entrenched  himself  in  the  position  he 
had  taken.  Pride  sustained  him  through  natural  weak 
ness.  Pride  helped  him  when  pity,  tenderness,  mercy, 
and  the  old  love  assaulted  his  strong  places,  and  gave  him 
the  victory. 

On  the  bureau,  in  their  chamber,  he  found  a  letter.  As 
he  reached  forth  to  take  this  lettei-,  his  hand  shook — shook 
in  spite  of  all  his  natural  impassiveness  and  habitual  self- 
control  ;  shook  so  that  he  laid  it  down  and  moved  back 
some  paces.  But,  he  could  not  endure  suspense  in  this 
great  crisis.  The  letter  was  in  his  hand  again,  and  as  he 
unfolded  the  sheet,  the  irrepressible  tremor  of  his  nerves 
made  it  rattle  in  the  air.  The  writing  was  Madeline's ; 
clear  and  accurate  at  the  beginning,  but  irregular,  blotted, 
and  bearing  evidence  of  deep  feeling  in  the  progress  and 
"conclusion. 

"  MY  HUSBAND  —  I  fear  that  we  have  come  to  a  place 
in  life  where  our  paths  must  diverge  :  not  however  through 
my  desire  or  my  election.  As  I  look  out  into  the  world, 
and  dimly  realize  what  I  must  be,  and  do,  and  suffer,  living 
apart  from  my  husband,  I  faint  in  spirit  —  I  shudder  at 
the  prospect.  My  heart  turns  back,  fain  to  linger  in  the 
sheltered  home  where  it  took  up  two  years  ago  its  rest 
in  peace  and  joy.  But,  you  have  dictated  the  only  terms 
on  which  I  can  remain  in  this  home.  I  must  be  inferior 
and  obedient.  You  must  be  lord,  and  I  serf.  The  free 
will  that  God  gave  me,  I  must  lay  at  your  feet.  Alas  for 


64  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

me !  I  cannot  thus  submit.  As  your  equal,  I  can  walk 
by  your  side,  true  as  steel  to  honor,  virtue,  purity,  and 
love ;  as  your  inferior  Uiere  can  be  no  dwelling  together 
for  us  in  the  same  house. 

"  To-day,  you  have  laid  on  me  a  command,  and,  delib 
erately,  in  face  of  all  consequences,  I  resolve  to  act  as 
freely  as  though  it  had  not  been  spoken.  At  the  same 
time,  I  shall  give  you  credit  for  being  in  earnest,  and 
refrain  from  coming  back,  after  I  leave  your  house,  until 
you  send  me  word  that  you  desire  my  return.  I  go,  be 
cause  I  will  not  live  with  you  in  strife ;  and  the  terms  you 
dictate  render  concord  impossible.  I  pray  you  "not  to 
misunderstand  me !  Too  much  for  both  of  us  is  involved. 
I  do  not  go  away  from  you,  because  I  desire  to  repudiate 
our  marriage  contract,  nor  because  there  lives  on  this 
earth  a  man  whom  my  heart  prefers  before  you.  I  go,  be 
cause  you  will  not  let  me  live  with  you  in  the  freedom  to 
which  every  soul  is  entitled,  and  in  the  equality  that  I 
claim  as  right.  Here  is  the  simple  issue,  as  Heaven  is  my 
witness !  In  whatever  you  elect  to  do,  keep  this  in  mind, 
Carl !  Your  wife  asks  for  love,  and  will  give  love  in  re 
turn  ;  but  if  you  command  obedience,  love  dies.  She 
cannot  dwell  with  you  as  a  slave,  and  will  not  dwell  with 
you  in  open  contention. 

"  My  heart  is  full,  Carl,  and  my  eyes  so  dim  with  tears, 
that  I  can  scarcely  see  the  page  on  which  I  am  writing. 
If  I  were  to  let  my  feelings  have  sway,  there  would  go  to 
you  such  a  wild,  such  an  impassioned  appeal,  as  no  man 
living,  whose  heart  was  not  of  stone,  could  resist.  The 
words  are  pressing  nay,  almost  imploring,  for  utterance. 
But,  I  press  them  back,  and  keep  silence,  for  I  will  not  be 
a  beggar  for  the  love  you  promised,  nor  a  craven  to  sub- 


OUT   IN   THE   WOKLD.  65 

mit.     Equal,  Carl !     We  must  stand  side  by  side  as  equals* 
or  remain  forever  apart. 

"  It  is  vain  to  write  more.  If  you  cannot  comprehend 
the  stern  necessity  that  is  on  me,  after  what  I  have  said, 
further  sentences  will  be  idle.  I  go,  because  you  have  de 
clared  terms  that  make  it  impossible  for  me  to  remain.  I 
will  return,  if  you  write  a  single  line  of  invitation.  If 
you  say  "  come  back,"  I  will  take  it  as  a  hopeful  assurance 
for  the  future.  If  you  keep  silence,  this  separation  is 
eternal !  If  yon  wish  to  see  me,  or  write  to  me,  call  or 

send  to  number  560 street. 

"  MADELINE." 

After  reading  this  letter,  in  an  excited  and  prejudiced 
state  of  mind,  Jansen  threw  it  from  him,  under  a  first  im 
pulse  of  indignant  rejection,  and  sat  for  some  time  in 
stern  isolation  of  spirit  —  hard,  angry,  accusing,  implaca 
ble.  In  the  reading,  pride  had  recognized  only  an  assault 
upon  himself  and  his  rights  as  a  husband  ;  and  he  chafed 
in  spirit.  A  calmer  state  succeeded.  He  read  the  letter 
again ;  but  still  failed  to  comprehend  its  true  meaning. 
In  his  view,  it  was  rebellious  and  defiant ;  proudly  stat 
ing  terms  to  which  he  must  submit,  or  his '  wife  would 
permanently  abandon  him.  If  he  had  read  this  letter  a 
third  time,  he  might  better  have  comprehended  Made 
line,  and  the  true,  pure,  loving  woman  he  had  driven 
from  his  heart  and  home.  But,  he  folded  it  with  a  stern 
spirit  —  crushing  the  paper  unconsciously  —  and  threw  it 
into  a  drawer  away  from  sight. 

"If  she  thinks  I  will  stoop  to  solicit  her  return  — that 
I  will  humble  myself  at  her  feet  —  she  is  grievously  mis- 


66  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

taken ! "  he  said.  "  I  am  not  made  of  that  kind  of  stuff. 
If  she  had  known  me,  she  would  never  have  tried  tin's  mad 
experiment.  It  will  fail  —  miserably  fail!  Go  to  herl 
Solicit  her  to  come  back  !  Promise  to  be  submissive  to  her 
will!  Give  up  manhood  —  self-respect  —  prerogative  — 
duty  —  rights!  —  No,  never!  I  shall  stand  just  where  I 
stand.  I  am  her  husband,  and  this  is  her  home.  If  she, 
of  her  own  choice,  abandon  both,  what  then  ?  She  per 
sists  or  repents  —  I  am  passive.  So  all  rests  in  her  hands. 
I  did  not  thrust  her  from  my  door,  and  it  shall  never  be 
closed  against  hei*,  so  long  as  her  life  is  without  stain. 
But,  I  cannot  solicit  her  to  come  back  —  I  will  not  solicit 
her!" 

Jansen  was  not  a  man  of  half  purposes;  nor  of  the  dis 
position  that  reviews  determined  lines  of  action,  hesitating, 
doubting,  repenting.  There  was  something  of  the  gypsum 
quality  in  his  mind ;  determinations  "  set "  quickly,  and 
were  not  resolved  again  into  free  thought.  Madeline  was 
not  wholly  ignorant  of  this,  when  she  took  bold  issue  with 
her  husband.  She  knew  him  to  be  narrow,  selfish,  proud, 
and  stubbornly  persistent  in  any  line  of  conduct  he  might 
adopt.  Yet,  she  braved  all  consequences,  in  her  blindness  ; 
abandoning  duty,  love,  ease,  comfort,  and  that  independ 
ence  of  the  world,  the  absence  of  which  is  so  wounding 
t  to  all  women  of  sensitive  feelings  and  high  spirit. 

As  men  and  women  are  — born  with  selfish  inclinations, 
and  inherited  peculiarities  —  mutual  concession  is  an  es 
sential  rule  of  action  in  marriage.  If  this  rule  is  not  ob 
served,  strife  must  come.  Were  we  in  original  purity  of 
soul  —  or,  through  observance  of  divine  laws  restored  to 
that  purity  —  then  no  conflicts  could  arise.  Love  would 


OUT   IN   THE    WOULD.  67 

bo  the  governing  law.  In  the  degree  that  any  individual 
is  so  restored,  or  regenerated  through  a  life  according  to 
the  Divine  Word,  so  far  will  that  individual,  even  in  the 
case  of  a  woman  unhappily  married,  submit  to  things  un 
just  and  hard  to  bear,  rather  than  abandon  all,  trusting  by 
patience,  gentleness,  and  a  loving  observance  of  every 
duty,  to  lift  her  husband  into  a  juster  perception  of  the  re 
lation  they  bear  to  each  other.  She  will  give  up  many  inno 
cent  things,  because  his  warped  or  narrow  views  will  not 
let  him  regard  them  as  allowable.  Nay,  even  submit  to 
arbitrary  rule  and  dictation,  rather  than  grapple  with  hiin 
in  a  conflict  that  can  only  end  in  submission  for  one,  per 
petual  strife,  or  separation.  And  what  is  true  of  the  wo 
man,  whose  soul  is  rising  out  of  the  dominion  of  natural 
evils,  is  in  like  manner  true  of  the  man.  He  will  bear  and 
forbear  —  will  yield  and  even  submit  in  much  —  rather 
than  break  the  most  sacred  of  all  bonds.  And  all  this 
may  be  done  without  any  real  abandonment  of  that  free 
will,  whose  highest  office  is  to  reject  evil  and  choose  good. 

But,  where  there  is  no  law  of  spiritual  life,  in  the  soul, 
leading  to  concession  for  another's  good,  then  let  the  law 
of  truth  in  the  understanding,  which  every  one  may  accept, 
act  as  a  controlling  force,  and  hold  all  things  in  fealty  to 
higher  duties,  though  the  way  in  which  the  feet  must 
walk  be  difficult,  often  going  down  into  the  vale  of  humil 
iation. 

Madeline  was  wrong.  Both  were  wrong.  False  views, 
stimulated  by  passion  and  self-will,  had  made  a  breach 
between  them.  Neither  had  the  spirit  of  concession,  but, 
instead,  the  spirit  of  accusation ;  and  there  was  no  angel 
in  their  hearts  to  bridge  the  widening  chasm  with  love. 


68  OUT   IN   THE   WOULD. 

Jansen  had  acted  with  inconsiderate  haste,  pressing  an 
interdict  upon  his  wife  while  she  was  yet  too  blind  to  see 
all  that  she  might  have  seen  of  duty  and  prudence,  had 
he  dealt  with  her  more  tenderly  and  wisely;  and  Made 
line,  with  equal  haste  and  lack  of  regard  for  her  husband's 
excited  state  of  mind,  had  set  him  at  defiance.  So,  in 
mutual  blame,  they  had  been  driven  asunder. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


F  Carl  Jansen  could  have  annihilated  that 
statue-like  image  of  his  wife,  as  he  last 
parted  from  her  at  the  breakfast  table,  he 
would  have  felt  better;  but,  let  thought 
turn  towards  Madeline  when  it  would, 
thus  he  saw  her.  By  an  eiFort  of  will, 
other  images  might  be  projected  before 
his  eyes;  but  they  faded  out  quickly, 
leaving  the  stony  statue  in  their  place. 
It  was  so  all  through  the  first  agitated, 
but  resolved  evening  following  Madeline's 

departure ;  so  through  all  the  succeeding  days  and  weeks. 

Even  years  had  no  power  wholly  to  cover  and  hide  that 

strange,  fearful  spectre,  which,  for  a  few  moments,  held 

his  vision  like  an  enchanter's  spell. 

No  word,  no  sign  from  either.     Both  lived,  for  weeks, 

in  blank  suspense  ;  yet  wrapped  about  in  pride,  and  Avith- 

out  thought  of  concession. 

Poor  Madeline !     She  had  gone  out  into  the  world  alone. 

Who  were  her  faithful  friends  ?     Upon  whom,  now,  was 


70  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

she  to  lean  V  Over  the  threshold  of  what  home  might 
her  feet  pass  confidently,  and  with  the  firm  tread  of  one 
who  had  a  right  to  enter?  Alas  for  the  bewildered,  erring 
young  creature !  She  had  not  counted  all  the  cost  of 
this  wrong  act.  When  she  left  her  husband's  house,  she 
went  directly  to  Mrs.  Woodbines.  But,  with  what  a 
different  feeling  from  any  experienced  before  did  she  enter 
the  residence  of  her  specious  friend.  The  old  feeling  of 
independence  and  equality  had  strangely  departed  from 
her.  Now  she  was  a  homeless  wanderer,  coming  to  ask 
for  temporary  shelter.  So  keenly  did  she  feel  this  as  she 
stood  at  Mrs.  Woodbine's  door,  that,  but  for  having  rung 
the  bell,  she  would  have  turned  away,  and  gone  home  to 
reconsider  the  step  she  was  taking.  But,  she  heard  the 
servant's  feet  along  the  hall,  and  it  was  too  late  to  retreat. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  Mrs.  Jansen ! "  With  this  heartily  utter 
ed  welcome,  Mrs.  Woodbine  entered  the  drawing-room 
where  Madeline  sat  awaiting  her,  and,  catching  her  hand, 
pressed  it  warmly.  "But,  bless  me,  child!"  she  added, 
in  a  changed  voice,  "  what's  the  matter  ?  You're  as  pale 
as  a  sheet  ?  " 

Madeline  tried  to  answer ;  but  there  was  only  a  dumb 
motion  of  the  lips. 

"Are  you  sick?" 

Madeline  shook  her  head. 

"  Nothing  wrong  with  your  husband,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  Yes."  The  tone  was  faint,  and,  even  on  this  monosyl 
lable,  betrayed  a  tremor. 

"What  is  it  child?"  asked  Mrs.  Woodbine. 

"  I  have  left  him." 

"No!" 

"  It  is  true,  Mrs.  Woodbine ! "    The  heart  of  Madeline 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  71 

was  not  strong  enough.  She  sobbed  out  aloud,  and  hid 
her  face. 

"  This  is  a  serious  matter,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Wood 
bine,  as  soon  as  her  visitor  grew  calm.  "  Left  your  hus 
band  !  For  what?  "  She  looked  sober. 

"He  positively  forbade  my  coming  to  see  you.  That 
was  going  too  far.  I  will  not  be  commanded  as  a  slave  ! 
I  am  here,  acting  in  open  disobedience ;  and  do  not  mean 
to  return  until  he  signifies  his  wish  to  have  me  do  so, 
promising,  at  the  same  time,  to  treat  me  as  his  equal  in 
all  things." 

"  Forbade  your  coming  to  see  me  I  On  what  ground, 
pray  ? "  There  was  a  stain  of  anger  on  the  face  of  Mrs. 
Woodbine. 

"  Somebody  has  been  making  slanderous  reports." 

"About  whom?"  demanded  Mrs.  Woodbine,  growing 
excited.  Something  looked  out  of  her  eyes  at  Madeline, 
which  caused  the  latter's  heart  to  shrink.  She  had  never 
seen  that  expression  in  them  before. 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  replied  Madeline  in  a  confused  way. 
"  No  name  was  mentioned." 

"  What  was  said  ?  "  The  manner  of  Mrs.  Woodbine 
grew  hard  and  almost  imperious. 

"  Nothing  that  in  any  way  touched  your  reputation," 
answered  Madeline,  trying  to  soothe  the  anger  which,  had 
been  aroused. 

"Who's  then?"  Still  she  was  imperative;  and  still 
she  looked  down  upon  Madeline  with  that  strange,  evil 
gaze,  which  made  her  heart  shrink  and  shudder. 

"I  cannot  answer, because  I  do  not  know,"  replied  Ma 
deline,  showing  distress,  and  speaking  in  tones  of  depre 
cation.  "  I  think  it  was  more  than  half  pretext  on  the 


72  OUT   IK   THE    WORLD. 

part  of  my  husband.  He  never  liked  our  intimacy ;  and, 
finding  that  I  was  not  going  to  give  up  my  friends  to 
gratify  his  whims  and  prejudices,  has  taken  this  course  in 
order  to  effect  his  object.  There  is  evil  speaking  every 
where.  The  best  are  not  free  from  misrepresentation. 
Especially  are  women  who  take  the  independent  stand 
you  and  others  have  taken,  liable  to  false  judgment. 
Somebody  has  spoken  lightly  of  somebody  who  visits  at 
your  house  —  the  light  words  repeated,  have  reached  my 
husband's  ears ;  this  has  given  him  a  chance,  as  he  sup 
poses,  to  break  up  our  intimacy.  But  he  has  not  found 
me  as  clay  in  his  fingers.  It  was  a  base  pretence,  I  am 
satisfied  —  nothing  more. 

The  evil  look  faded  out  of  Mrs.  "Woodbine's  eyes.  Her 
face  grew  softer.  She  accepted  the  explanation.  But,  to 
Madeline,  she  did  not  assume  the  old  cordial,  winning  air. 

"  I  understand  it  all  now,"  she  gravely  answered.  "  It 
was,  as  you  affirm,  a  base  thing  in  your  husband.  But 
my  child,  you  have  taken  a  serious  step.  What  do  you 
propose  ?  Have  you  friends  who  will  receive  you  ? " 
Mrs.  Woodbine  gazed  searchingly  into  Mrs.  Jansen's  face. 

"I  trust  that  lam  strong  enough  to  be  my  own  friend," 
bravely,  and  with  just  a  pulse  of  indignation  in  her  voice, 
replied  Mrs.  Jansen  even  though  her  heart  was  growing 
like*lead  in  her  bosom.  The  change  in  this  lady's  manner 
struck  her  with  a  painful  surprise. 

"  Of  course  you  are  —  every  true  woman  is  strong 
enough  for  that."  Mrs.  Woodbine  spoke  with  a  certain 
air  of  approval,  yet  still  with  a  reserve  that  chilled  the 
feelings  of  her  visitor.  "And  you  are  equal,  I  trust,"  she 
a<]ded,  "  to  the  contest  on  which  you  have  entered.  If 
your  husband  is  the  unemotional,  strong-willed  and  wrong- 


OUT   IN   THE   WOULD.  73 

willed  man  I  think  him,  that  contest  must  be  a  severe  one, 
and  may  end  in  a  permanent  separation.  Does  he  yet 
know  of  the  step  you  purpose  taking  ?  " 

"  He  will  know  of  it  when  he  returns  home  at  dinner 
time." 

"Not till  then?" 

"  No.  He  will  find  a  letter,  advising  him  of  my  pur 
pose  to  live  separate,  unless  he  consent  to  treat  me  as  an 
equal.  If  he  ask  me  to  return,  I  will  go  back  and  make  a 
new  trial.  If  he  remains  silent,  the  separation  must  be 
permanent.  As  I  said  to  him,  I  will  not  live  in  strife,  nor 
will  I  humble  myself  to  the  station  of  an  inferior.  Equal 
and  peaceable,  or  not  at  all !  He  will  be  in  no  doubt  of 
the  issue  when  he  reads  my  letter." 

"I  am  afraid,"  answered  Mrs.  Woodbine,  "that  you 
have  acted  hastily.  What  if  he  make  no  reply  ?  " 

"  I  have  counted  that  cost." 

"  Ah,  indeed !  Well  you  will  be  rich  in  resources  if 
you  prove  able  to  meet  it." 

"  How  so  ? "  Madeline  might  well  ask  in  surprise. 
What  could  be  the  meaning  of  this  changed  spirit  in  her 
friend  —  the  friend  who  had  first  counselled  resistance  to 
her  husband's  encroachments,  and  so  often  urged  her  to 
maintain  her  womanly  freedom  ?  She  was  puzzled,  hurt 
and  distressed  by  a  circumstance  that  seemed  inexplica 
ble.  "  How  so  ?  "  she  repeated. 

"  In  the  first  place,  you  give  up  an  elegant  home,  ancT^ 
money  to  any  fair  extent  that  you  may  see  fit  to  demand. 
Have  you  rich  relatives,  who  will,  in  turn,  supply  these  ? 
Your  good  name  is  to-day,  unsullied  before  the  world. 
Abandon  your  husband,  on  almost  any  pretext,  and  though 
your  life  be  pure  as  an  angel's,  the  soil  of  slander  will  be 

4 


74  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

cast  over  your  garments.  You  have  now  ease,  comfort, 
and  complete  independence  in  worldly  matters ;  how  will 
it  be  if  you  cast  them  all  behind  ?  My  dear  young  friend, 
you  stand  this  hour  in  the  most  momentous  crisis  of  your 
life.  I  would  not  have  advised  this  step.  As  society  is 
now  constituted,  the  woman  who  breaks  the  marriage  bond 
is  misunderstood  and  misinterpreted.  Public  opinion 
ranges  itself  against  her,  and  a  hundred  impediments  are 
thrown  in  the  way  of  her  honorable  independence.  A  man 
cast  loose  upon  the  world  if  he  have  strength  and  will,  finds 
all  things  conspiring  to  his  success ;  but  a  woman  so  cast 
loose,  finds  all  things  conspiring  against  her.  I  speak  so 
berly,  my  dear  young  friend,  and  earnestly,  for  I  have  a 
larger  experience  of  the  world  than  you.  No  —  no  !  this 
is  not  the  way.  Hold  to  your  legal  position  as  Mr.  Jan- 
sen's  wife,  but  maintain  your  independence.  If  he  seek  to 
put  on  the  tyrant,  set  him  at  naught,  but  hold  to  the  ma 
terial  rights  acquired  in  wedlock.  If  you  abandon  him, 
you  abandon  everything ;  but  if  he  abandons  you,  the  law 
will  give  alimony,  and  so  leave  you  independent.  You  see, 
child,  that  I  take  a  sober,  common-sense  view  of  things. 
I  look  to  the  main  chance.  Understand  me  ;  I  cotmscl  no 
submission.  You  are  his  equal,  and  if  skilled  in  the  use 
of  your  native  strength,  fairly  matched  with  him  in  any 
contest  he  may  precipitate.  The  home  you  purpose  aban 
doning  is  as  much  yours  as  his.  Don't  lose  the  advantage 
its  possession  gives  you.  Put  on  triple  armor  for  defence, 
if  that  be  needed ;  call  to  your  aid  all  a  fertile  woman's  re 
sources,  as  I  have  done,  and  victory  will  surely  perch  on 
your  banners.  But  don't  —  don't  take  this  hazardous  step. 
Your  husband  is  narrow  in  his  views —  cold  and  stubborn. 
I  do  not  believe  he  will  send  or  come  for  you.  He  thinks 


OUT   IN   THE   WOKLD.  75 

woman  weak,  and  will  trust  to  your  repentance.  To  re 
turn  to  him  after  the  final  breach,  would  be  a  shame  and 
a  humiliation." 

"  I  would  die  first,"  said  Madeline,  with  aroused  indig 
nation. 

Here  the  interview  was  interrupted  by  a  visitor  —  a 
small,  pale-faced,  high-browed,  dark-eyed  woman,  whose 
faded  countenance  yet  self-reliant  air,  showed  a  person 
who  had  seen  some  service  in  the  warfare  of  life. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Windall,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Woodbine,  ris 
ing  and  advancing  to  meet  her  as  she  entered  the  drawing- 
room,  "I'm  so  glad  to  see  you  this  morning!  Just  in 
time  to  help  me  advise  our  young  friend,  Mrs.  Jansen." 

"  Ah,  Mrs  Jansen ! "  said  the  new  comer,  turning  from 
Mrs.  Woodbine  —  "I  did  not  anticipate  this  pleasure. 
In  trouble,  child !  What's  happened  ?  " 

Before  Madeline  could  speak,  Mrs.  Woodbine  answered 
for  her  — 

"Yes,  she's  in  trouble,  and  we  must  see  her  through  it, 
if  possible." 

"  What  kind  of  trouble  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Windall. 

"  With  her  husband,  of  course.  Oh,  dear !  these  miser 
able  husbands !  they're  the  curse  of  our  lives ! " 

A  shadow  dropped  over  the  pale  face  of  Mrs.  Windall : 
her  brows  fell ;  her  dark  eyes  grew  intense ;  she  looked 
angry  —  almost  cruel  — 

"  The  curse  of  otir  lives !  You  may  well  say  that."  She 
spoke  in  a  kind  of  panting  undertone,  like  one  in  strong 
excitement. 

"Well,  dear?"  turning  to  Madeline,  "what  has  hap 
pened  ?  A  quarrel  with  your  tyrant,  of  course !  I  can 
guess  that  much." 


76  OUT   IN   THE   WOELD. 

""We  shall  never  quarrel  again,"  replied  Madeline,  with 
a  calmness  of  voice  not  expected  by  Mrs.  Woodbine. 

"Ha !  what  does  that  mean  ?  "  The  eyes  of  Mrs.  Wind- 
all  flashed.  There  was  apparent  in  her  manner  a  thrill  of 
excitement. 

"  It  means  that  we  have  parted  company,"  said  Mad 
eline. 

"  Of  your  own  choice  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  will  not  be  a  slave,  nor  will  I  dwell  with  any 
man  in  perpetual  strife." 

"  Spoken  like  a  brave,  true  woman !"  said  Mrs.  Windall, 
grasping  Madeline's  hand  —  "  and  I  welcome  you  to  the 
sisterhood  of  those  noble  ones  who  can  suffer,  but  not 
endure  bonds.  It  would  be  better  for  our  sex  if  there 
were  many,  many  more  of  your  spirit.  My  ear  catches 
the  ring  of  the  true  metal,  and  the  music  is  sweet.  I  kiss 
you,  dear,  brave  young  woman,  and  receive  you  into  our 
circle."  And  Mrs.  Windall  pressed  her  lips  to  Madeline's 
forehead.  They  were  almost  like  the  touch  of  marble  lips 
—  so  cold  —  giving  a  chill  instead  of  warmth. 

"  There  is  the  cost  to  be  counted,"  said  Mrs.  Woodbine, 
now  interposing.  "  Always  it  is  best  to  count  the  cost. 
Mrs.  Jansen  has  left  her  husband.  What  next  ?  Where 
is  she  going  ?  What  will  she  do  ?  Who  are  her  friends  ?  " 

"  All  true  women  are  her  friends,"  responded  Mrs. 
Windall,  becoming  heroic  in  manner. 

"  She  will  need  something  beyond  mere  friendship." 

"True  friendship  is  full  of  service,"  answered  Mrs. 
Windall. 

"In  my  opinion,"  said  Mrs.  Woodbine,  speaking  in  a 
firm  asserting  tone  of  voice,  "the  highest  office  of  friend 
ship  towards  Mrs.  Jansen  is  to  advise  her  to  go  back  to 


OUT  IN   THE   WORLD.  77 

her  home  and  maintain  her  rights  there.  I  have  said  this 
to  her  already,  and  my  hope  was  that  you  would  say  the 
same.  There  she  will  possess  all  external  advantages  — 
every  luxury  and  comfort  she  desires  —  a  liberal  supply  of 
money  —  ease  and  independence,  if  she  will  assert  and 
maintain  it.  There  are  plenty  of  ways  in  which  a  bright, 
resolute  woman  may  rule,  instead  of  being  ruled  by  her 
husband,  and  thus  hold  in  freedom  all  the  advantages  of 
her  position.  Go  back,  Mrs.  Jansen ;  that  is  my  advice." 

"  I  am  not  so  mercenary  as  you  seem  to  imagine,"  re 
plied  Madeline,  flashing  her  beautiful  eyes  into  the  face  of 
Mrs.  Woodbine.  There  was  an  air  of  defiance  in  this, 
quite  oifensive  to  the  latter,  whose  love  of  having  things 
her  own  way  never  calmly  brooked  a  spirit  of  opposition. 
Madeline  had  been,  up  to  this  time,  a  docile  learner  in  her 
new  school  of  woman's  rights ;  but  now  that  she  was  as 
serting  a  right  to  think  and  act  for  herself,  Mrs.  Woodbine 
felt  that  her  superior  judgment  was  being  set  at  naught, 
.  and  this  was  more  than  she  could  calmly  bear. 

"But  a  great  deal  sillier  than  I  imagined,"  came  in 
sharp  retort  from  her  lips.  "  You  must  live !  How,  pray  ? 
That's  the  question.  Have  you  the  answer  ready?" 

"The  world  is  wide,"  said  Madeline,  her  tones  less  im 
passioned.  "  And  I  shall  find  my  place  in  it.  I  am  strong 
enough,  I  trust,  both  to  do  and  to  dare  in  whatever  work 
or  strife  befall  me.  But,  I  will  not  dwell  in  contention 
with  my  husband.  I  hold  the  marriage  bond  as  too  holy 
a  thing  for  this.  I  loved  my  husband  —  I  still  regard  him 
above  all  other  men" —  her  voice  gave  way,  but  she  recov 
ered  it  quickly,  and  went  on  —  "  and  I  will  not  meet  him 
in  open  war,  wounding  and  receiving  wounds.  There 
may  bo  women  who  glory  in  battle ;  but  I  am  not  one  of 


78  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

these.  My  spirit  will  not  brook  tyranny ;  so  I  flee  from 
the  tyrant's  presence  and  seek  to  dwell  in  peace." 

"  You  are  not  a  woman  of  my  stamp,"  retorted  Mrs. 
Woodbine,  with  a  half  contemptuous  motion  of  the  head. 
u  No  tyrant  shall  drive  me  from  the  place  assigned  me  by 
natural  right,  and  by  law.  If  the  question  come  as  to  who 
will  leave  this  house  by  voluntary  act  —  my  husband  or 
me  —  be  sure  that  I  will  remain  at  any  cost.  He  can  go 
if  it  so  please  him ;  but  not  I.  I  thought  you  had  more 
pluck,  child.  Pshaw !  Cast  these  romantic  notions  to  the 
wind.  Love  !  Dont  talk  of  that.  When  a  husband  puts 
on  the  tyrant,  love  vanishes." 

Madeline  had  entered  the  house  of  Mrs.  Woodbine,  in 
tending  to  remain  there  temporarily.  She  had  expected  a 
far  different  reception.  Had  looked  for  sympathy,  succor, 
and  encouragement.  Alas !  How  suddenly  this  admired 
and  almost  worshipped  friend  had  become  transformed. 
Now,  she  arose,  as  if  to  depart. 

"  Don't  go,"  said  Mrs.  Woodbine.  But  there  was  no 
feeling  in  her  voice  —  no  actual  invitation  to  remain. 

Mrs.  Windall  arose  at  the  same  time.  Her  eyes  were 
on  the  face  of  Madeline.  She  was  reading  it  with  keen, 
but  sinister  glances. 

Mrs.  Jansen  did  not  reply  to  the  remark  of  Mrs.  Wood 
bine,  but  drew  her  shawl  to  her  shoulders,  and  stepped 
back  towards  the  door.  Mrs.  Windall  did  the  same. 

"  My  dear  young  friend !  I  trust  you  will  reflect  deeply 
on  what  you  are  about  doing,"  said  Mrs.  Woodbine,  in  a 
tone  of  warning. 

"Be  advised  by  me.  Go  home.  Sleep  for  another 
night  on  this  question,  remembering  that  it  is  to  affect  for 
good  or  ill  your  whole  life.  I  am  your  friend.  Don't  for- 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  79 

get  this.  Your  true  friend,  who  seeks  to  save  you  from 
calamity.  Mrs.  Windall !  Join  me  in  admonishing  her 
to  beware  of  a  step,  which,  once  taken,  cannot  be  retraced, 
and  may  lead  to  untold  evils." 

"  Come  home  with  me,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Windall,  turn 
ing  to  Madeline.  "As  Mrs.  Woodbine  intimates,  the 
most  vital  things  are  concerned,  and  every  step  should  be 
well  considered.  We  will  go  over  the  whole  matter  to 
gether,  and  see  what  is  best  to  be  done.  Trust  me,  Mrs. 
Woodbine "  —  looking  towards  that  lady  —  "I  will  coun 
sel  her  as  faithfully  as  if  she  were  my  own  child.  Good 
morning !  Come,  dear !  " 

And  without  giving  time  for  interposition,  even  if  that 
had  been  in  Mrs.  Woodbine's  thought,  she  hurried  Made 
line  away. 

"  Faithfully! "  Mrs.  Woodbine  spoke  with  herself,  stand 
ing  alone  in  her  drawing-room. 

"  Aye,  as  the  hawk  deals  with  the  dove !  '  Foolish  young 
.  creature !  I  wish  she  were  safely  back  in  her  home  again. 
What  strength  has  she  for  the  battle  that  is  before  her  ?  — 
what  endurance  for  the  storms  that  will  beat  upon  her 
fair  young  head  ?  Well !  well !  Some  natures  are  incom 
prehensible  !  Some  spirits  move  blindly  upon  ruin.  You 
cannot  counsel  them  —  you  cannot  hold  them  back.  As 
for  Mrs.  Jansen,  I  wash  my  hands  clear  of  all  responsibili 
ty.  Be  her  future  what  it  may,  no  blame  shall  rest  at  my 
door." 


CHAPTER  IX. 


US.  WIND  ALL  was,  as  we  have  said, 
a  small,  pale-faced  woman,  witli  dark 
keen  eyes  and  high  forehead.  She 
was  rather  showily  dressed,  in  cheap, 
faded  finery,  the  soils  and  creases 
therein  marking  her  as  an  untidy 
person.  She  was  one  of  those  who, 
affecting  a  scorn  for  things  feminine, 
have  yet  a  weak  love  for  gaudy  at 
tire,  but  neither  taste  nor  neatness. 
So  in  her  wardrobe  she  made  her 
self  noticeable,  but  did  not  elicit  admiration.  Years  be 
fore  she  had  quarreled  with  her  husband,  and  they  had 
ever  since  lived  separately.  As  to  the  blame,  it  was 
about  equally  divided.  Both  had  hung  out  false  colors, 
she  pretending  to  be  an  heiress,  and  he  a  thriving  man 
of  business.  The  mutual  cheat  was  never  forgiven  on 
cither  side,  and  after  a  brief  but  stormy  attempt  to  live 
before  the  world  as  man  and  wife,  they  had  broken  their 
fetters  and  swept  asunder. 


OUT  IN   THE  WOELD.  81 

Previous  to  her  marriage,  Mi's.  Windall  had  lived  with 
a  distant  relative ;  but,  on  separating  from  her  husband, 
the  door  of  her  old  home  did  not  open  for  her  again. 
The  fact  was,  she  had  been  a  burden  to  this  relative,  who 
felt  no  inclination  to  take  it  up  again.  Mrs.  Windall, 
therefore,  in  leaving  her  husband,  went  out  into  the  world 
alone.  Just  how  she  had  managed  to  live  for  the  past  five 
or  six  years,  no  one  knew.  Frequent  changes  of  boarding 
places,  left  with  some  the  inference  that  she  was  either 
difficult  to  please,  or  for  some  cause  was  not  considered  a 
desirable  guest.  The  truth  was,  she  had  a  slender  purse, 
and  did  not  pay  as  she  went.  The  question  of  ways  and 
means  had  become  one  of  vital  interest  to  Mrs.  Windall. 
She  would  not,  however,  descend  into  any  of  the  vulgarly 
useful  employments,  preferring  to  get  money  through  ap 
peals  to  sympathetic  strangers,  in  whom  she  managed  to 
excite  pity  for  her  wrongs  and  destitution.  She  had 
"  boarded  round  "  and  "  begged  round  "  in  Philadelphia 
for  nearly  two  years,  until  she  became  so  well  known  that 
both  doors  and  sympathy  were  shut  against  her.  Then 
she  found  means  to  procure  from  three  clergymen  and  two 
editors,  letters  of  introduction  to  as  many  individuals  in 
Boston  of  the  same  professions,  whither  she  went,  and  on 
the  strength  of  these  introductions,  managed  to  get  into 
respectable  society.  But  she  was  both  a  moth  and  a 
drone,  consuming  yet  not  producing.  For  a  time,  she 
interested  people  of  some  cultivation,  for  her  mind  was 
active,  and  she  was  a  fluent  talker.  In  Boston,  she  met 
with  a  number  of  men  and  Avomen  who  were  absorbed  in 
social  theories,  joined  their  circle,  and  for  awhile  became 
a  leader  among  them.  Gradually,  however,  something  in 
her  was  felt  as  repulsive.  The  circle  did  not  harmonize 

4* 


82  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

with  Mrs.  Windall  so  near  the  centre,  and  by  tacit  consent, 
she  was  gradually  pressed  to  the  circumference.  She 
could  talk  glibly  of  "  broad  humanities ; "  of  "  noble  aims 
and  ends ;  "  of  their  "high  mission  in  the  world ;  "  of  the 
"  new  gospel "  they  were  sent  to  preach  ;  but  those  who 
had  the  means  of  knowing  her  best,  saw  that  she  was  idle 
and  selfish  —  a  taker  on  all  sides,  but  not  a  giver. 

For  over  two  years  Mrs.  Windall  managed  to  keep 
afloat  in  Boston ;  then  she  found  it  necessary  to  emigrate- 
Gradually  the  circle  of  her  friends  had  diminished,  and  as 
it  lessened,  the  character  of  her  associates  were  of  a  lower 
grade.  Light  scandals  touched  her  fame  —  whether  justly 
or  not  we  cannot  affirm.  In  the  end,  a  few  weak  but  well- 
meaning  individuals,  who  pitied  her  destitution,  obtained 
for  her  letters  introductory,  and  a  sum  of  money,  with 
which  she  passed  to  New  York.  Here  she  had  flourished 
for  a  while,  but  was  now  getting  to  be  so  well  understood, 
that  she  found  it  difficult  to  hold  her  own. 

Such  in  brief  was  the  woman  into  whose  hands  Mrs. 
Jansen  had  fallen.  Coldly  had  the  friend  on  whom  Made 
line  counted  turned  from  her  —  the  very  friend  who  had 
first  taught  her  the  new  doctrines  of  equality  and  indepen 
dence,  on  which  she  was  now  acting.  The  friend  on  whom 
she  had  counted  for  everything  in  this  the  great  crisis  of 
her  life,  turned  from  and  left  her  with  a  woman  whose 
sphere  had  always  been  repellant,  and  holden  by  whose 
hand  she  was  now  stepping  out  into  an  unknown  and  un 
tried  world.  The  air  of  this  new  region  struck  upon  her 
with  a  chill,  and  she  felt  an  inward  shudder  as  she  walked 
away  from  Mrs.  Woodbine's  door,  accompanied  by  Mrs. 
Windall.  Had  she  been  alone,  most  likely  her  feet  would 
have  turned  back  towards  her  own  house.  But  she  was 


OUT  IN   TUB   WORLD.  83 

committed  to  a  degree  that  left  retreat  out  of  the  question. 
She  was  too  young  and  too  strong  in  her  self-will  for  a  cool 
counting  of  the  cost  —  for  that  sober  reflection  and  hesi 
tation  which  years  of  life-experiences,  with  their  sufferings, 
are  sui^  to  bring.  Pride  was  a  dominant  passion  —  this 
also  held  her  to  the  course  upon  which  she  had  so  madly 
entered. 

Mrs.  Windall  was  boarding  at  No.  —  Washington  street, 
in  a  house  and  neighborhood  quite  below  the  range  of 
respectability  in  which  Mrs.  Jansen  had  been  living  with 
her  husband.  The  latter  held  back,  and  gave  her  compan 
ion  a  look  of  surprised  inquiry,  as  they  stopped  before  a 
dingy  dwelling. 

"  This  is  my  home  for  the  present,  dear,"  said  Mrs. 
Windall,  with  an  encouraging  smile.  "  Not  as  elegant  as 
I  could  desire,  but  the  people  are  so  very  kind  that  I  can't 
take  heart  to  leave  them.  Come ! " 

Mrs.  Windall's  hand  was  already  on  the  bell.  Madeline 
felt  an  impulse  to  turn  away,  and  run  as  if  for  life ;  but 
she  had  not  strength  enough  to  break  the  spell  that  was 
upon  her,  and  so  stood  passive,  with  her  eyes  cast  down 
and  half-closed,  instinctively  shutting  away  the  unpleasing 
objects  that  were  before  them. 

"  Come  dear ! "  The  door  had  been  opened  by  a  sharp 
looking  Irish  girl,  who  glanced  keenly  at  Mrs.  Jansen  as 
she  entered  on  this  invitation  of  her  friend. 

"Is  my  room  in  order,  Kitty?"  asked  Mrs.  Windall, 
when  they  stood  in  the  narrow  hall,  the  atmosphere  of 
which  was  heavy  with  dining-room  and  kitchen  odors. 

"  No  ma'am,"  answered  Kitty,  with  a  curtness  of  tone 
that  did  not  escape  Mrs.  Jansen. 

«  Will  you  put  it  in  order  right  away,  Kitty  ?  " 


84  OUT   IN   THE    WOELD. 

Kitty  did  not  give  a  verbal  negative,  but  her  manner 
said  emphatically  —  "  No  I " 

"  Walk  into  the  parlor,  Mrs.  Jansen,"  said  Mrs.  Win- 
dall,  turning  from  the  servant,  whose  sharp,  curious  eyes 
had  already  closely  scanned  the  visitor's  face. 

The  parlor  was  a  small  front  room,  of  cheerless  aspect. 
The  air  was  close  and  impure,  the  furniture  dingy,  the 
painted  walls  dirty  with  head  and  hand  marks.  An  old 
sofa,  with  a  broken  spring  shining  through  the  rent  hair 
cloth,  stood  on  one  side.  In  the  centre  was  a  small  round 
mahogany  table,  on  which  was  a  carcel  lamp,  surmounted 
by  a  globe,  cracked  on  one  side,  and  with  a  crescent-shaped 
piece  scalloped  out  of  the  top.  The  odor  of  sperm  oil 
struck  the  nostrils  as  the  eyes  rested  on  this  lamp.  It  was 
not  imagination.  Five  ancient  lookinglstufFed  chairs  were 
ranged  about  the  apartment.  The  carpet,  of  English  Brus 
sels,  had  once  been  handsome ;  but  that  was  a  long  time 
ago.  It  would  have  been  difficult  now  to  make  out  the 
figure  clearly,  the  pile  was  so  completely  worn  off  in  large 
spots,  thus  exposing  the  coarse  grain  of  the  canvas.  Paint- 
ted  shades,  which  could  hardly  have  seen  less  than  ten 
years'  service,  darkened  the  windows.  On  the  mantelpiece 
stood  a  small  French  clock,  the  pendulum  motionless. 
This  article  of  ornament  was  flanked  by  two  small,  curi 
ously  spotted  shells,  the  only  clean  and  fresh  looking  things 
in  the  room.  A  few  pictures,  so  called  by  courtesy,  hung 
on  the  walls,  the  most  noticeable  being  a  savage  looking 
Judith  and  Holofernes. 

"  We'll  sit  here  for  a  short  time,  until  the  servant  gets 
my  room  ready,"  said  Mrs.  Windall,  taking  off  her  bonnet, 
and  tossing  it  in  a  careless  way  on  to  the  table,  where  stood 
the  carcel  lamp,  untrimmed  since  the  last  night's  burning. 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  85 

If  it  came  off  free  of  an  oil  spot,  so  much  might  be  count 
ed  as  gain.  "  She  didn't  expect  me  home  so  soon,  or  it 
would  have  been  all  right.  When  I  go  out  in  the  morn 
ing  I  hardly  ever  get  home  until  dinner-time.  And  now, 
my  child,  while  waiting  for  Kitty,  we  can  talk." 

Mrs.  Jansen  glanced  towards  the  folding  doors,  that 
stood  closed  between  the  front  and  back  rooms. 

"  There's  no  one  there,"  said  Mrs.  Windall,  understand 
ing  the  significance  of  the  glance. 

A  movement  in  the  adjoining  room  contradicted  her  as 
sertion,  and  she  dropped  her  voice,  as  she  remarked  — 

"  Only  a  servant,  I  presume.  But,  we  can  talk  low. 
And  now  let  me  repeat  the  assurances  already  made,  that 
I  am  your  friend,  and  feel  deeply  interested  in  your  case. 
Do  you  know,  dear,  I've  always  felt  drawn  towards  you. 
There's  something  about  you  so  frank  and  outspoken  — 
so  womanly  and  so  independent  —  so  true  to  yourself. 
The  step  you  are  taking  is  a  most  painful  one ;  but  it  is  in 
pain  that  higher  principles  are  born.  We  must  go 
through  the  fire  to  purification.  We  must  get  strength 
for  noble  work  by  braving  the  tempest.  Dear,  dear  child ! 
don't  give  way  to  a  weakness  that  is  unworthy  of  the  du 
ty  to  which  you  are  called ! " 

Poor  Madeline !  Her  heart  had  failed  her.  Looking 
into  the  face  of  things  as  they  were  beginning  to  present 
themselves,  she  shuddered  in  affright.  Her  answer  to 
Mrs.  Windall  was  a  trio  of  sobs,  and  a  gush  of  tears. 

"  I  know  it  is  a  hard  thing  for  you,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs. 
Windall,  in  a  tenderly  sympathizing  voice,  drawing  an 
arm  as  she  spoke,  around  Mrs.  Jansen.  "So  young  —  so 
hopeful  —  so  loving,  yet  so  terribly  disappointed !  These 
wrongs  to  our  sex  set  my  blood  on  fire.  I  grow  fierce 


86  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

with  indignation  when  I  see  them.  Poor  child !  This  is 
but  a  momentary  weakness.  I  understand  how  it  is,  for 
have  I  not  also  been  in  the  furnace  ?  You  will  be  strong 
er  in  a  little  while." 

"  It  is  cruel  —  so  cruel ! "  murmured  Mrs.  Jansen. 

"  All  men  are  cruel.  It  is  their  nature,"  said  Mrs.  Win- 
dall.  Flatter  them  —  yield  to  them  in  everything  — 
call  black  white  to  humor  their  whims,  and  they  can  be  as 
gentle  as  lambs ;  but  set  yourself  in  opposition ;  dare  to 
call  your  soul  your  own,  and  instantly  the  fangs  are  seen. 
But  you  haven't  told  me  all  about  this  unhappy  affair.  I 
could  only  get  vague  hints  from  our  conversation  at  Mrs. 
Woodbine's.  And,  by  the  way,  Mrs.  Woodbine  acted  very 
strangely.  I  thought  more  highly  of  her.  To  recommend 
you  to  go  back,  just  for  the  sake  of  money  and  position! 

But  you  answered  her  nobly  !  Your  language  thrilled 
me  with  pleasure.  I  said,  what  a  grand  young  soul ! 
There  was  in  your  words  the  inspiration  of  a  high  purpose. 
I  felt  that  the  priestess  for  our  new  temple  had  come. 
And  so  I  drew  you  away  from  the  unworthy  contact  of 
such  a  woman  as  Mrs  Woodbine." 

This  speech  was  not  without  influence  on  Mrs  Jansen. 
She  was  pleased  rather  than  disgusted,  and  so  made  blind 
instead  of  clear-seeing  in  regard  to  her  friend.  Her  emo 
tion  had  already  subsided ;  calmness  nn-1  strength  were 
born  of  momentary  weakness. 

"  How  was  it  ?  Tell  me  all,"  said  Mrs.  Windall,  resum 
ing.  Trust  me,  as  one  who  loves  you  —  as  one  who  will 
make  your  cause  her  own  —  as  a  daughter  would  trust  her 
mother." 

Mrs.  Windall  could  attract  strongly.  If  one  come  fully 
within  her  sphere,  that  one  was  captive,  at  least  for  a  time. 


OUT   IN   THE    WOKLD.  87 

Already  Madeline  was  beginning  to  feel  the  influence  of 
this  subtle  sphere.  As  she  looked  into  the  woman's  face, 
its  expression  changed.  What  had  been  hard  and  repel- 
lant,  was  softened  by  more  graceful  lines.  There  was 
tenderness  in  the  cold  dark  eyes,  from  whose  strange  in- 
tenseness  she  had  so  often  turned  away  with  an  inward 
shiver.  Madeline  was  in  her  power. 

"  Tell  me  all, "  repeated  Mrs.  Windall.  Her  tones  had 
in  them  now  more  of  command  than  solicitation  —  not 
offensive  command,  but  that  expectation  of  consent,  which, 
from  its  subtlety,  is  so  much  more  certain  to  prevail.  And 
Madeline  opened  all  her  heart.  She  kept  back  nothing. 

"Now  I  can  advise  you  understandingly,"  said  Mrs. 
"Windall,  when  in  full  possession  of  the  case.  "  Of  course 
you  cannot  go  back,  unless  your  husband  consents  to  the 
equality  you  have  demanded.  That  would  be  to  sink 
below  the  former  level  you  held  in  his  house.  It  would 
be  acknowledging  yourself  an  inferior  —  a  serf,  a  slave. 
He  would  be  tenfold  more  the  tyrant.  No  —  no ;  you 
have  entered  a  path  in  which  there  is  no  turning  back  with 
out  loss  of  everything  a  woman  holds  dear.  And  now, 
let  me  ask  a  plain  question  or  two  as  to  your  connections 
and  prospects  outside  of  your  husband.  The  better  I  un 
derstand  things,  you  see,  the  better  I  can  advise  you. 
What  of  your  relatives  ?  " 

"  Apart  from  my  husband,"  replied  Mrs.  Jansen,  "  I  am 
nearly  alone  in  the  world." 

"  Ah !  "  There  was  a  certain  spring  in  Mrs.  Windall's 
voice  that  indicated  satisfaction. 

"  I  lived  with  an  aunt,  my  only  near  relative,  at  the  time 
of  my  marriage.  She  has  since  died,"  added  Mrs.  Jansen. 

"  Have  you  an  income  ?  —  Anything  in  your  own 
right  ?  " 


88  OUT   IN   THE   WOKLD. 

«  Nothing." 

"  So  you  stand  alone  in  the  world,  trusting  in  your  own 
strength  ?  " 

"  Alone ! "  How  the  word  echoed  through  all  the  cham 
bers  of  Madeline's  soul. 

"And  yet  not  alone,"  said  Mrs.  Windall.  "As  I  have 
already  affirmed,  all  true  women  are  your  friends ;  and  you 
will  find  many  noble  spirits  drawing  to  your  side.  They 
will  encompass  you  as  a  defensive  wall." 

The  parlor  door  was  opened  at  this  moment  by  Kitty, 
who  had  altered  her  first  intention  about  Mrs.  WindalFs 
chamber. 

"  Your  room  is  ready,  ma'am,"  she  said,  with  less  curt- 
ness  of  speech  than  she  had  used  when  the  ladies  first 
came  in. 

"  Oh !  Thank  you,  Kitty,"  returned  Mrs.  Windall,  with 
considerable  blandness  of  manner. 

After  obtaining  a  good  look  at  the  visitor  the  observant 
Kitty  retired. 

The  apartment  to  which.  Mrs.  Jansen  now  ascended, 
was  in  the  third  story,  back.  Its  furniture  was  in  the  or 
dinary  style  of  second  and  third  class  boarding  houses  — • 
meagre,  dingy,  cheerless.  A  cherry  four  poster,  of  scant 
dimensions  and  obsolete  style,  occupied  a  portion  of  the 
chamber.  The  bed  was  thin  and  covered  by  a  faded  cal 
ico  spread,  patched  here  and  there  with  pieces  of  different 
patterns.  There  was  no  bureau.  Two  large  trunks  were, 
instead,  the  repositories  of  Mrs.  Windall's  clothing.  A 
cheap  mahogany  framed  glass  hung  against  the  wall,  under 
which  was  placed  a  high  and  narrow  pine  dressing  table. 
Two  chairs,  a  small  writing  or  work-table,  a  strip  of  car 
pet  before  the  bed,  a  common  maple  washstand,  and  green 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  89 

paper  blinds  at  the  windows,  made  up  the  complement 
of  furniture. 

"  It  isn't  very  elegant,"  said  Mrs.  Windall,  as  she  usher 
ed  her  almost  shrinking  companion  into  this  comfortless 
apartment.  "  But,"  she  added,  with  affected  indifference 
towards  external  things,  "  not  in  our  surroundings  does 
the  heart  find  rest  and  satisfaction.  Sweet  peace,  con 
tentment,  delight,  come  by  an  inner  way.  The  poet  who 
said,  *  My  mind  my  kingdom  is,'  understood  life's  true 
philosophy.  How  often  do  I  repeat  the  words!  How 
often  have  I  repeated  them  in  this  poor  little  room,  and 
felt  their  sublime  meaning." 

As  she  spoke,  Mrs  Windall  untied  Madeline's  bonnet 
strings  and  removed  her  bonnet.  The  unhappy  young 
creature  was  stunned  and  passive.  She  felt  herself  in  a 
weird  atmosphere,  every  breath  of  which  fed  a  strange, 
scarcely  real  life.  There  was  a  spell  on  her,  which  it 
seemed  impossible  to  break.  She  distinctly  recognized  a 
power  in  this  woman  against  which  she  had  not,  in  the 
present,  strength  to  act.  She  felt  herself  like  a  broken 
branch  on  a  stream,  borne  away  she  knew  not  whither. 

"  Don't  look  so  miserable,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Windall,  see 
ing  in  Mrs.  Jansen's  face  a  picture  of  wretchedness  and 
vague  alarm.  "  The  first  sharp  pain  will  soon  be  over. 
Then  you  will  feel  calm,  strong,  and  full  of  self-confidence ! 
I  have  gone  by  this  way,  and  know  every  foot  of  the 
ground.  It  leads  to  freedom  —  to  self-repose  —  to  honor 
able  independence.  Only  the  first  steps  are  painful  and 
difficult." 

Mrs.  Jansen  did  not  reply.  After  her  bonnet  and  shawl 
had  been  laid  off,  she  sat  down  by  one  of  the  windows  and 
looked  out.  The  prospect  was  neither  soothing  nor  ele- 


90  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

vating.  Dirty  brick  walls,  chimneys,  roofs  —  a  dull  sky 
over  head  —  below,  not  a  green  thing.  It  was  a  glimpse 
of  New  York  out  of  a  back  third  stoiy  window  on  the 
east  side  of  Washington  street.  A  dreary  gaze  —  shut 
eyes  for  a  little  while  — then  Mrs.  Jansen  turned  from  the 
prospect  without  to  the  one  within.  The  room  seemed 
more  desolate  and  repulsive  than  at  the  first  glance.  It 
was  a  comfortless  cell  compared  with  the  luxurious  cham 
ber  she  had,  until  within  a  few  hours,  called  her  own. 
What  a  heavy  weight  rested  on  her  bosom !  She  almost 
panted  for  breath.  It  seemed  as  if  something  were  crush 
ing  her  life  out.  Then  came  a  strong  impulse  to  break 
away  —  to  run  from  this  woman  as  from  an  enemy,  and 
from  this  close  room  as  from  a  prison.  She  even  rose  with 
a  sudden  resoluteness  of  manner,  and  crossed  towards 
the  bed  on  which  her  shawl  and  bonnet  were  lying.  Mrs. 
Windall,  who  was  on  the  alert,  read  what  was  passing  in 
her  mind,  and  moving  quickly  to  her  side,  drew  an  arm 
around  her  and  said  — 

"  And  now,  my  dear,  going  back  to  the  subject  of  our 
conversation  when  Kitty  interrupted  us,  take  heart  in  the 
assurance  that  you  do  not  stand  alone.  That  all  true  wo 
men  are  your  friends,  and  that  purer  and  nobler  spirits 
than  you  have  yet  known,  will  come  to  your  side  and  claim 
you  as  a  sister.  Sit  down  again.  I  have  a  world  of 
things  to  say." 

And  Mrs.  Jansen,  weak  and  bewildered,  sat  down  ;  or, 
to  speak  more  truly,  permitted  herself  to  be  borne  down 
upon  the  chair  from  which  she  had  just  arisen. 

"  And  first,  dear  Mrs.  Jansen !  let  me  offer,  with  a  free 
and  loving  heart,  to  share  my  poor  room  with  you  for  a 
little  while,  until  better  arrangements  can  be  made.  A 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  91 

season  of  quiet  is  essential  in  your  present  state  of  mind. 
You  need  not  join  the  family.  I  will  arrange  to  have 
your  meals  sent  up.  Just  as  long  as  you  may  wish,  shall 
you  remain  in  perfect  seclusion.  In  the  mean  time,  we 
can  survey  the  whole  ground  and  determine  your  best 
course." 

Mrs.  Jansen,  whose  eyes  had  fallen  to  the  floor,  did  not 
look  up  nor  respond.  She  was  thinking  of  the  letter  she 
had  left  for  her  husband,  and  whether  he  would  send  an 
answer.  How  was  she  to  get  the  answer,  if  it  were  sent  ? 
She  had  given  the  number  of  Mrs.  Woodbine's  house,  as 
that  to  which  any  communication  for  her  should  be  di 
rected.  Could  she  go  there  again,  after  what  had  passed 
between  her  and  Mrs.  Woodbine  ?  She  felt,  with  keen 
ness,  the  altered  tone  of  this  friend,  upon  whom  she  had 
counted  for  almost  everything.  She  was  hurt,  alienated 
offended.  When  she  passed  through  her  door,  on  retiring, 
she  had  resolved  never  to  re-enter  it  again.  Of  course, 
Mrs.  Windall  would  call  for  her  on  the  next  day,  and  in 
quire  for  a  letter !  but,  there  came  a  hesitation  in  her 
thought  —  a  certain  want  of  confidence  was  felt.  Though 
captive,  in  a  degree,  to  the  stronger  will  of  Mrs.  Windall, 
the  instincts  of  her  purer  nature  warned  her  against 
implicit  trust.  No,  she  did  not  wish  any  communication 
from  her  husband  to  get  into  the  hands  of  this  woman ; 
nor,  in  case  a  letter  was  received,  did  she  wish  to  read  it 
in  her  presence.  In  such  a  case,  she  felt  that  she  would 
not  be  free  to  act  as  her  own  heart  and  judgment  might 
dictate. 

"  You  do  not  answer  me,"  said  Mrs.  Windall,  breaking 
in  upon  Madeline's  perplexed  thoughts.  There  was  just 
a  shade  of  offended  pride  in  her  voice. 


92  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"  Forgive  me,  my  kind  friend,"  answered  Mrs.  Jansen, 
rousing  herself.  She  shivered  as  if  a  cold  wind  had  blown 
upon  her.  "  Be  patient  with  me.  I  do  not  see  clearly." 

"  No  mother  could  be  more  patient,  or  more  loving  than 
I  will  be,  dear  Mrs.  Jansen !  It  is  because  my  heart  is  so 
full  of  your  case,  that  I  seem  to  be  intrusive.  I  know 
how  it  is  with  you.  I  see  just  where  you  stand,  and  see, 
also,  the  way  opening  easily  before  you.  Ah,  dear,  if  your 
eyes  could  perceive  what  is  so  plain  to  mine  !  But  that, 
in  your  present  state,  is  impossible." 

Mrs.  Windall  drew  an  ana  around  Madeline  and  kissed 
her.  How  cold  the  lips  were !  They  sent  a  chill  down 
her  nerves. 

Weak  —  passive  —  silent.  The  strength,  bom  of  indig 
nant  purpose ;  the  half  heroic  enthusiasm  which  had  led 
Mrs.  Jansen  out  from  the  home  of  her  husband ;  the  dom 
inant  will,  ready  to  accept  anything  but  submission  — 
were  all  failing  now,  as  she  stood  face  to  face  with  these 
first  repulsive  facts  of  her  new  life.  Anything  so  poor, 
so  mean,  so  circumscribed  as  this  chamber  of  her  friend, 
had  not  come  within  the  range  of  her  anticipation.  Sac 
rifice  ;  endurance ;  self-dependence ;  stern  conflict  in  the 
life-battle  that  was  before  her,  going  out  thus  alone  into 
the  world,  she  had  nerved  herself  to  accept.  But  in  so  far 
as  imagination  had  realized  anything  as  actual,  there  was 
in  its  pictures  of  the  future  a  certain  grandness  and  hero 
ism,  with  its  poetical  compensations,  that  would  give 
strength  to  a  nature  like  hers.  And  here,  at  the  initial 
step,  as  if  to  drive  her  back,  she  was  met  by  a  coarse  and 
offensive  reality,  the  first  contact  with  which  filled  her 
with  disgust.  The  admonition  would  have  been  effectu 
al,  had  she  not  been  under  the  influence  of  a  will  more 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  93 

subtle  and  powerful  than  her  own.  Weak  —  passive  — 
silent  she  became,  after  a  single  effort  to  break  away ;  and 
when,  perceiving  this  state,  Mrs.  Windall  urged  her  to  lie 
down,  she  made  no  resistance. 

After  her  head  was  upon  the  pillow,  Mrs.  Windall  sat 
close  beside  her.  Madeline  shut  her  eyes  and  turned  part 
ly  away.  Her  face  was  pale ;  her  eyelids  wet ;  her  mouth 
full  of  sadness.  Now  a  change  flashed  over  Mrs.  Win- 
dall's  faded  countenance  —  there  was  a  gleam  in  her  eyes 
—  and  the  signs  of  an  eager  purpose  about  her  thin,  cold 
lips.  With  a  repressed  movement,  she  extended  one  of 
her  hands,  and  laid  it  gently  on  Madeline's  forehead.  For 
nearly  a  minute  she  did  not  move  this  hand ;  then  the 
fingers  stirred,  just  as  if  the  motion  were  involuntary. 
After  that,  she  stroked  the  damp  hair  softly,  gradually  ex 
tending  the  touch  down  to  the  temples  on  each  side. 
This  was  continued  for  some  time,  Mrs.  Jansen  remaining 
quiet.  If  the  half  unconscious  woman,  lying  there  with 
closed  lids,  could  have  seen  the  countenance  of  Mrs. 
Windall  as  it  was  now,  she  would  have  started  up  and 
fled  in  terror  from  the  room.  But  she  was  fast  losing 
herself.  The  motion  of  Mrs.  WindalPs  hand  went  on, 
gradually  increasing  in  quickness,  while  her  eyes  fixed 
themselves  with  a  snake-like  intensity  upon  Madeline. 
Five,  ten,  fifteen,  twenty  minutes  elapsed,  and  still  the 
hand  of  Mrs.  Windall  stroked  the  forehead  and  temple  of 
the  motionless  woman  lying  before  her  —  the  expression 
of  her  face  increasing  all  the  while  in  its  intense  eager 
ness.  At  last  she  paused,  still  with  her  weird  eyes  on 
Madeline,  and  her  hand  held  a  few  inches  above  the  head 
she  had  been  caressing.  All  remained  silent  as  death. 
Even  the  breathing  of  Mrs.  Windall  was  suppressed. 


94  OUT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

Now  she  stood  up  and  bent  over,  so  as  to  get  a  full  view 
of  Madeline's  face.  The  result  was  satisfactory.  A  light 
flashed  into  her  countenance,  a  strange,  unnatural,  evil 
light.  Again  she  laid  her  hand  on  her  head,  and  as  she 
did  so,  called  her  name  in  a  low  voice  ;  but  no  response 
came.  Then  an  arm  was  gently  lifted  —  it  remained,  as 
raised,  after  being  released,  not  falling  back  upon  the  bed 
by  its  own  weight.  Mrs.  Windall  pressed  upon  the  arm, 
and  it  went  down  slowly.  Again  that  gleam  of  light 
flashed  over  the  woman's  face  which  was  full  of  conscious 
power.  An  eager  thrill  of  triumph  seemed  to  pervade 
her  soul.  Her  slight  form  swelled  into  fuller  proportions. 
"Mine!"  she  ejaculated,  in  a  whisper.  "Mine  !"  And 
still  she  stood  looking  greedily  at  the  unconscious  Made 
line —  a  dove  just  flown  from  her  cage,  and  so  soon  in  the 
hawk's  talons ! 


CHAPTER  X. 

HE  whole  aspect  of  Mrs.  Windall  was 
changed.  At  a  first  glance,  even  one 
quite  familiar  with  her  appearance 
might  have  failed  in  a  clear  recogni 
tion.  Usually,  there  was  about  her  an 
air  of  repose.  Life  did  not  flush  the 
external  of  her  being,  but  held  itself, 
like  a  hidden  spring,  in  fullness  at  the 
centre.  Now  it  was  leaping  along  her 
veins  in  unwonted  currents,  while  every 
nerve  was  in  a  thrill.  As  she  stood  erect  above  the  un 
conscious  Mrs.  Jansen,  every  part  of  her  body  was  in  mo 
tion,  with  that  billowy  grace  seen  in  wild  animals  of  the 
feline  species ;  while  her  face  glowed  with  an  evil  radi 
ance.  She  stood  over  Madeline  for  a  little  while,  and 
then  crossing  to  the  window,  looked  out  for  a  moment ; 
then  turned  and  went  back  to  the  bed  again  —  still  with 
that  rippling,  springy  grace  of  motion  to  which  we  have 
referred.  Her  eyes  glanced  towards  her  victim  as  she 
turned,  with  that  glittering  eagerness  seen  in  the  cat's 
eyes,  half  cruel,  when  she  sports  with  her  prey. 


96  OUT   IX   THE   WORLD. 

As  if  to  reassure  herself  that  Mrs.  Jansen  was  complete 
ly  spell-bound,  she  called  her  in  a  low  voice ;  but  the  ears 
were  dead  to  external  sounds.  Then  she  laid  her  hand  on 
her  temples  —  then  lifted  her  passive  arms,  that  retained, 
like  pieces  of  wax,  any  position  she  gave  them.  A  fuller 
satisfaction  flushed  her  pale  face  —  a  keener  delight  burned 
in  her  calm,  dark  eyes  —  through  every  limb  and  muscle 
ran  a  stronger  billowy  motion.  She  was  graceful  in  atti 
tude  as  a  wild  beast  on  the  alert  for  prey. 

This  flushing  of  all  the  externals  of  Mrs.  Windall's  life, 
consequent  on  gaming  power  over  a  weaker  soul,  whom 
she  meant  to  render  obedient  to  sinister  purposes,  contin 
ued  for  nearly  an  hour.  Dining  this  long  period,  she  was 
in  almost  constant  motion,  exhibiting  the  restlessness  of 
a  caged  animal.  Every  now  and  then,  she  would  stand 
over  Madeline,  and  look  upon  her  with  an  expression  of  in 
tense  satisfaction.  There  was  no  pity,  no  sympathy,  no 
compassion  in  her  cold  face.  She  did  not  think  of  what 
sufiering  might  lay  in  the  path  she  was  marking  out  in 
thought  for  this  young  creature's  feet ;  but  only  of  gain 
to  herself. 

After  an  hour,  her  exhilarant  state  passed,  and  Mrs. 
Windall  became  reflective.  She  sat  down  a  little  way 
from  the  bed,  assuming  in  a  short  time  the  attitude  of 
one  who  had  pondered  deeply.  Sometimes  her  head 
moved  in  assent  to  a  hidden  thought,  or  slowly  signed  a 
negative,  as  some  result  was  reached  that  did  not  find  ap 
proval.  And  still  the  death-like  sleeper  lay  with  soul  and 
sense  imprisoned. 

Almost  another  hour  elapsed  without  change.  At  the 
end  of  that  period  Mrs.  Windall  stood  over  Madeline,  not 
in  the  fearful  aspect  she  had  borne  since  the  beginning  of 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  97 

this  infernal  rite,  but  with  her  usual  countenance,  soften 
ed  by  looks  of  kindness.  There  were  a  few  quiet  passes 
and  touches,  and  calls  made  in  tones  of  tender  interest ; 
when  the  long  still  lashes  quivered,  the  lips  moved,  the 
whole  body  showed  a  thrill  of  returning  life. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Jansen!"  a  mother's  voice  could  hardly 
have  so  abounded  in  love  as  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Windall. 
"  How  sweetly  you  have  slept." 

Mrs.  Jansen  started  up  and  looked  around  her  in  a  scared 
way. 

"Have  you  been  dreaming,  dear?"  asked  Mrs.  Win 
dall. 

"  Dreaming !  dreaming !  "  murmered  Mrs.  Jansen,  as  one 
still  but  half  awake.  She  looked  strangely  about  the  room, 
then  timidly  at  Mrs.  "Windall. 

"  What  a  sweet  sleep  you  have  had !  I've  been  watch 
ing  you  for  more  than  an  hour.  I  never  saw  anything  so 
peaceful.  It  was  like  an  infant's  slumber."  Mrs.  Win- 
dall's  arm  was  already  around  Madeline,  who  first  shuanlc 
away,  and  then  permitted  herself  to  be  drawn  close  to  her 
side. 

There  came  a  rap  at  the  door,  which  a  moment  after 
wards  was  pushed  open,  and  Kitty's  sharp  face  peered  in. 

"  Did  you  call,  ma'am  ?  "  asked  the  servant,  and  as  she 
spoke  she  advanced  her  body  into  the  room,  and  fixed  her 
intelligent  eyes  on  Mrs.  Jansen. 

"No,  Kitty,"  answered  Mrs.  Windall,  in  a  slightly  an 
noyed  manner  —  "I  didn't  call,  and  don't  want  anything." 

"  Will  the  lady  stay  to  dinner,  and  shall  I  have  a  place 
for  her  ?  "  Kitty  held  her  ground,  in  spite  of  Mrs.  Win- 
dall's  intimation  that  she  could  retire. 


98  OUT    IN   THE    WOULD. 

"  Oh,  no  —  no,"  answered  Mrs.  Jansen,  "  I  shall  not  stay 
to  dinner.  Is  it  so  late  ?  " 

"  It's  going  near  on  till  two  o'clock,  ma'am,"  said  Kitty. 

"  Impossible  !  "     And  Mrs.  Jansen  drew  out  her  watch. 

"How  strange!"  she  ejaculated  —  "Nearly  two,  as  I 
live,  and  I  thought  it  was  scarcely  twelve." 

Kitty's  eyes,  full  of  curious  interest,  were  reading  every 
line  and  expression  of  Mrs.  Jansen's  beautiful  young  face. 

"  Yes  ma'am,"  said  the  girl,  "  it's  nearly  two,  and  we 
have  dinner  at  the  hour.  Shall  I  bring  you  up  some 
thing?" 

"  No,  thank  you.  Have  I  slept  long  ?  "  And  Made 
line  turned  to  Mrs.  "Windall. 

"You  can  go  down,  Kitty,"  said  the  last-named  person. 
"I  did  not  call  you.  If  my  friend  takes  dinner  with  me, 
I  will  see  to  it.  There  —  there  — !  "  she  added,  in  an  im 
perative  manner,  as  the  girl  still  lingered.  Kitty,  with  a 
look  on  her  face  that  did  not  escape  Mrs.  Jansen,  went 
out  slowly. 

"The  most  provoking  girl  I  ever  saw!"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Windall,  angrily,  as  Kitty  shut  the  door.  "  She's 
always  prowling  about,  and  thrusting  herself  upon  you  in 
and  out  of  season.  But  if  you  really  want  anything,  she 
is  very  sure  to  have  other  engagements.  Were  you 
asleep  long?  Yes,  dear.  You  slept  for  nearly  two  hours, 
and  lay  so  quietly  and  peacefully  that  I  cotfld  not  find  it 
in  my  heart  to  break  the  spell  of  slumber*.  You  wont  go 
down  to  dinner  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  —  no,;  Mrs.  Windall ;  I  couldn't  eat  a  mouth 
ful." 

"  Til  have  your  dinner  sent  up." 

"No,  no ;  I  would  choke  if  I  attempted  to  eat." 


OUT   IN   THE   WOKLD.  99 

"  But  you  can't  go  without  food,  dear.  I'll  find  some 
thing  delicate  at  the  table,  and  bring  it  to  you  myself.1' 

Mrs.  Jansen  only  turned  her  head  partly  away,  with 
that  air  of  aversion  which  we  sometimes  see  in  the  sick 
when  pressed  to  take  food.  She  had  been  sitting,  since 
aroused  from  her  unnatural  sleep,  on  the  bed.  Now,  ris 
ing,  she  walked  in  an  unsteady  way  across  the  room,  and 
stood  at  the  window,  from  which  she  had  already  obtain 
ed  so  dreary  a  prospect  of  roofs  and  chimneys. 

"  I  think,"  she  said,  turning  suddenly  around,  "  that  I 
will "  As  suddenly  as  she  had  begun  did  Mrs.  Jan- 
sen  check  herself. 

"Will  what?"  asked  Mrs.  Windall. 

"  Oh,  nothing ;  it  was  a  mere  thought,"  replied  Made 
line. 

Mrs.  Windall's  forehead  contracted.  She  looked  sharp 
ly  at  Mrs.  Jansen. 

"  Don't  be  afraid  to  speak  out  to  me,"  she  said.  "  I  am 
your  friend  in  everything.  If  you  have  doubts,  questions, 
or  rising  purposes,  don't  hesitate  about  letting  me  see 
them.  My  heart  is  in  your  case,  anb,  \  will  counsel  or 
lead  you  as  carefully  as  if  you  were  my  own  child." 

But  Mrs.  Jansen  did  not  reveal  her  thought.  Nay,  hid 
it  in  her  mind  with  care,  lest  it  should  be  discovered.  la 
vain  did  Mrs.  Windall  persist  in  trying  to  get  at  the 
meaning  of  that  quick  decision  of  her  young  friend's 
mind  —  for  she  saw  that  a  decision  had  been  reached  — 
Madeline  baffled  her  in  every  effort. 

The  loud  clamor  of  a  bell,  jarring  through  the  hall  and 
stairways,  announced  dinner. 

"  You  will  not  go  down  r  ?  said  Mrs.  Windall. 

"No." 


100  OUT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

"I  will  bring  you  up  something." 

Mrs.  Jansen  shook  her  head. 

"  But  you  must  take  food.  A  cup  of  tea  and  a  piece 
of  toast,  if  nothing  else.  Shall  I  bring  these  ?  " 

"  I'll  take  some  tea,"  said  Mrs.  Jansen,  with  the  manner 
of  one  who  wished  to  get  rid  of  importunity. 

The  instant  Mrs.  Windall  left  the  chamber,  Madeline's 
face  lighted  with  a  purpose.  She  listened  intently  to  the 
sound  of  her  retreating  footsteps,  to  the  opening  and  shut 
ting  of  chamber  doors,  and  the  confused  noise  of  feet 
down  the  stairs  and  along  the  passages.  In  a  few  mo 
ments  all  was  still  again.  Now  she  got  up  quickly,  and 
after  a  hurried  arrangement  of  her  hair,  put  on  her  shawl 
and  bonnet.  Her  hand  was  on  the  door,  which  she  pulled 
softly  ajar.  As  she  did  so,  her  quick  ear  caught  the  sound 
of  light  ascending  feet.  Starting  back,  she  threw  off  the 
bonnet  and  shawl,  tossing  them  to  the  farther  side  of  the 
bed  from  which  she  had  taken  them,  and  was  sitting  with 
an  apparently  absorbed  air  near  the  window,  when  Mrs. 
Windall  opened  the  door  and  came  in. 

"  They  have  some  nice  roasted  fowl  on  the  table,"  she 
said.  "  Now  do  let  me  send  you  a  piece." 

Mrs.  Jansen  shook  her  head,  replying  — 

"  No,  Mrs.  Windall ;  I  cannot  eat  a  mouthful.  But,  if 
it  is  not  too  much  trouble,  you  may  have  a  cup  of  tea  made, 
and  bring  it  up  when  you  are  through  with  dinner." 

"  And  a  piece  of  toast." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  if  I  can  eat  it,  I  will." 

Mrs.  Windall  lingered  for  some  moments,  like  one  haunt 
ed  with  suspicions,  and  only  half  satisfied.  With  quick 
but  cautious  glances,  she  surveyed  the  room,  to  see  if  there 
had  been  any  change  since  she  went  down  stairs.  None 
met  her  eyes. 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  101 

"  I  will  bring  the  tea  and  toast  in  a  little  while,"  she 
said,  as  she  moved  back. 

"  Oh  thank  you.    Perhaps  I  will  feel  better  afterwards." 

Mrs.  Windall  Avent  out,  shutting  the  door.  The  in 
stant  Mrs.  Jansen  was  alone,  a  quiver  ran  through  her  frame? 
and  her  stooping  body  lifted  itself  to  a  firm  erectness. 
She  turned  an  ear,  listening  intently.  Not  the  slight 
est  sound  was  heard.  Was  Mrs  Windall  just  outside  of 
the  door,  or  had  she  gone  down  with  noiseless  steps  ?  A 
minute,  that  seemed  like  five  minutes,  passed  before  Mrs. 
Jansen  stirred  from  where  she  sat.  Then  she  went  to  the 
door,  and  opening  it  softly,  peered  out.  There  was  no  one 
in  the  passage.  She  stepped  from  the  room,  and  moved 
to  the  head  of  the  stairway.  All  was  deserted  and  still. 
Assured  of  this,  she  went  back  quickly,  and  catching  up 
her  bonnet  and  shawl,  drew  them  on,  with  scarcely  a  mo 
ment's  pause  for  right  adjustment.  The  finest  ear  would 
scarcely  have  detected  her  footfalls  as  she  glided  down  the 
stairs.  Unobserved,  she  had  nearly  reached  the  lower 
passage,  when  she  heard  some  one  coming  up  quickly  from 
the  basement,  where  the  dining-room  was  located.  Paus 
ing,  she  held  her  breath,  in  a  strange  kind  of  fear.  She 
felt  like  a  criminal  in  the  act  of  escape,  and  about  suffering 
detection.  All  her  mind  was  in  confusion.  A  moment  of 
suspense,  and  Kitty,  the  Irish  girl  appeared.  Mrs.  Jansen 
•ut  her  finger  to  her  lip.  The  servant  understood  her, 
c«nd  nodded  a  quick  assurance. 

"  Don't  tell  Mrs.  Windall  that  I  am  going,"  whispered 
•Irs.  Jansen. 

"  'Deed  ma'am,  I  won't ! "  Kitty  answered  back  in  a 
whisper.  "  She's  a  horrid  thing,  any  how,"  looking  the 
disgust  she  felt,  "  and  AVC  all  wish  her  a  thousand  miles 


102  OUT  IN   THE   WORLD. 

from  here.  But  get  away  with  you,  and  don't  be  linger 
ing.  It's  just  my  guess  that  she  put  you  to  sleep  to-day. 
I've  heard  that  she  can  do  such  things.  Ough !  I'd  as 
soon  let  a  snake  touch  me ! " 

"  Kitty ! "  It  was  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Windall,  calling 
up  from  the  basement.  At  the  same  time,  she  was  heard 
ascending. 

"  Go !  "  said  the  girl  to  Mrs.  Jan  sen  —  "  go  right  away ; 
I'll  keep  her  down  there  until  you  get  out  of  the  front 
door." 

"Who  were  you  talking  to?"  Madeline  heard  Mrs. 
Windall  ask,  as  Kitty  met  her  half  way  down  the  base 
ment  stairway.  She  needed  no  further  incitement,  but 
was  in  the  street  before  Kitty,  who  had  blocked  up  the 
stairs  in  front  of  Mrs.  Windall,  had  given  her  evasive 
answer. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SAW  your  old  friend  Madeline  on  the 
street,  to-day."  The  speaker  raised  his  eyes 
from  a  book.  He  was  a  serious  looking 
man,  with  hard  lips,  and  gloomy,  discon 
tented  eyes.  The  tone  in  which  this  re 
mark  was  uttered,  expressed  no  kind  feel 
ings.  It  was  plain,  that  the  "  old  friend  " 
did  not  stand  high  in  his  regard. 

"Ah?"  responded  his  wife,  who  sat 
sewing.  The  husband  had  been  reading  to 
himself,  and  the  wife,  while  sewing,  think 
ing  to  herself.  There  was  no  light  on  his  face  as  he  spoke, 
and  no  light  on  hers,  as  she  uttered  her  simple  "  Ah." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  husband,  "  and  she  looked  like  a  crnzy 
woman."  There  was  a  covert  pleasure  in  his  voice. 

"  Crazy,  -Mr.  Lawrence  !  "  The  large  dark  eyes,  gcntlo 
and  tender,  yet  slightly  veiled  by  pensive  shadows,  lifted 
themselves  quickly. 

"  Crazy,  or  something  else.  She  was  driving  along  like 
a  frightened  bird." 


104  OUT   IX   THE    WORLD. 

"  Alone  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  Yes.  All  alone.  I  looked  straight  into  her  face,  but 
she  didn't  notice  me.  In  fact,  I  don't  think  she  saw  any 
thing.  There's  trouble  in  her  wigwam,  I  imagine.  Why 
not  ?  Jealousy  on  the  one  hand  and  free  love  on  the 
other  are  by  no  means  favorable  to  domestic  peace." 

"Indeed,  Mr.  Lawrence,  you  are  unjust  to  Madeline! "  said 
the  wife,  in  earnest  deprecation.  "  She  may  be  gay  and 
thoughtless  —  fond  of  admiration  and  society  —  but  I  will 
stake  my  life  on  her  purity." 

Mr.  Lawrence  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  looked  his 
doubts. 

"  How  did  she  appear  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Lawrence,  returning 
to  the  fact  mentioned  by  her  husband.  "  Flurried,  for  one 
thing.  Pale  as  a  ghost  for  another.  Half  frightened  into 
the  bargain.  There's  something  wrong,  I  can  tell  you, 
Jessie." 

«  What  time  was  it  ?  " 

"  A  little  before  dark.  I  was  near  the  South  Ferry,  and 
she  had,  to  all  appearance,  just  come  over  from  Brooklyn. 
The  thought  struck  me  that  she  might  have  called  here." 

"  0  no.  She  wasn't  here,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence.  "  And 
you  say  she  was  pale  and  agitated  ?  " 

"  Frightened  is  the  true  word,"  answered  Mr.  Lawrence. 

"  What  can  it  mean  ?  "  Mrs.  Lawrence  spoke  in  a  trou 
bled  voice. 

"  Simply,  that  she's  reached  the  end  of  her  tether,  and 
been  brought  up  with  a  shock.  Such  things  are  sure  to 
occur  sooner  or  later.  To  say  the  least,  Madeline  has  been 
forward  and  imprudent.  The  public  don't  soon  forget  a 
circumstance  like  the  one  that  happened  with  her  a  year 
or  two  ago  —  how  she  flirted  with  a  man-about-town, 


OUT   IN    THE   WORLD.  105 

whose  character  was  patent  to  every  body,  to  the  disgust 
and  indignation  of  her  husband,  who  resented  the  outrage 
in  a  way  that  she  did  not  soon  forget." 

"  I  never  believed  half  of  that  story,"  said  Mrs.  Law 
rence. 

"  You  are  less  credulous  than  I  am,  Jessie.  The  fact  is, 
to  my  thinking,  the  half  was  never  told.  There  must  be 
something  very  wrong  between  a  man  and  his  young  wife, 
when  he  leaves  her,  in  anger,  at  a  large  party,  to  make 
her  way  home  after  midnight  as  best  she  can." 

"  The  hasty  act  of  a  jealous  husband  should  never  bo 
held  as  conclusive  against  his  wife,"  answered  Mi-s.  Law 
rence.  "Jealousy  has  been  blind  and  cruel  from  the  be 
ginning.  I  know  Madeline  better  than  all  of  you  who 
are  so  ready  to  take  up  an  evil  report  against  her.  She 
is  a  creature  of  impulse  —  strong-willed,  and  wrong-headed 
at  times ;  but  pure  and  true.  It  is  not  right  to  judge  of 
all  dispositions  and  temperaments  by  one  rule.  Minds 
are  as  different  as  faces.  The  very  thing  which  in  one 
would  be  an  indecorum,  in  another  might  be  as  innocent 
as  the  deed  of  an  artless  child." 

"  I  was  never  a  believer  in  Madeline's  artlessness,"  said 
Mr.  Lawrence.  "To  me,  she  is  a  bundle  of  arts  and  coquet 
ries.  Nothing  solid  or  truthful  about  her.  And  I'm  not 
surprised  at  her  being  in  trouble.  How  could  it  be  other 
wise  ?  " 

Mrs.  Lawrence  understood  her  husband  well  enough  to 
know,  that,  from  a  spirit  of  opposition,  if  for  no  other  rea 
son,  he  would  depreciate  Mrs.  Jansen  as  long  as  she  con 
tinued  the  defence  ;  so  she  kept  back  what  it  was  still  in 
her  heart  to  say,  and  taking  up  the  sewing  from  her  lap, 
went  on  with  her  evening's  work.  Mr.  Lawrence  did  not 
6* 


106  OUT   IK    THE   WORLD. 

at  the  same  time  resume  his  book.  The  pleasure  he  had 
found  in  its  pages  was  not  strong  enough  to  draw  him 
quickly  back  from  the  pleasure  of  paining  his  wife  by  de 
nouncing  her  friend  —  a  recreation  indulged  in  by  a  great 
many  husbands  —  so,  after  a  brief  silence  he  went  on, 
speaking  with  a  virtuous  indignation  of  manner,  that  did 
not  deceive  his  wife.  He  had  a  pique  against  Madeline, 
and  disliked  her  in  consequence  —  the  more,  because  Mrs. 
Lawrence  would  not  turn  against  her. 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  he,  warming  to  his  pleasant  work, 
"  Madeline  has  taken  to  bad  company." 

His  wife  dropped  her  needle  hand  with  a  start.  A  pain 
ful  expression  swept  over  her  face. 

"  What  is  your  authority  for  saying  this  ?  "  she  demand 
ed,  a  low  thrill  of  indignation  in  her  tones. 

"  Common  report,"  answered  Mr.  Lawrence,  coolly. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  common  report?  I  have 
heard  nothing  like  this  against  her.'^ 

"  Men  who  are  about  every  day  hear  more  than  women 
who  stay  at  home,"  said  Mr.  Lawrence.  "  There  is  a  great 
deal  of  hard  talk  against  Mrs.  Jansen,  and  the  people 
with  whom  she  keeps  company.  They  have  a  free  love 
association  at  Mrs.  Woodbine's ;  so  the  story  goes." 

"  I  don't  like  Mi-s.  Woodbine,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence, 
"  and  I've  told  Madeline,  often,  that  she  was  neither  a 
sincere  friend,  nor  a  safe  adviser.  But  this  talk  about  free 
love  is  all  a  lie." 

Mr.  Lawrence  really  enjoyed  his  wife's  excitement.  So 
he  answered  — 

"Very  far  from  being  a  lie,  let  me  tell  you  Jessie.  I  be 
lieve  every  word  of  the  story.  It's  making  a  stir  in  the 
city.  In  last  Sunday's  Mercury,  there  was  an  article  on 


OUT   IN   THE    WORLD.  107 

the  subject  so  pointed  that  several  individuals  were  recog 
nized,  and  their  names  bandied  from  lip  to  lip.  '  A  bright, 
dashing  young  beauty,  whose  husband  would  do  well  to 
look  after  her  a  little  more  closely' — so  the  article  reads 
—  evidently  refers  to  your  friend  Madeline." 

"  Don't,  don't  say  that ! "  replied  Mrs.  Lawrence,  in  pain 
ful  astonishment.  "A  woman's  reputation  is  too  sacred 
a  thing  to  be  trifled  with." 

"  And,  therefore,"  said  he,  "  a  pure  woman  will  not  as 
sociate  with  the  impure,  lest  an  evil  thing  be  said  of  her. 
We  judge  of  people  by  the  company  they  keep.  Birds 
of  a  feather  flock  together.  Similar  things  attract ;  dis 
similar  things  repel.  If  Madeline  were  really  the  pure 
bebig  you  imagine  her  to  be,  she  would  keep  company 
only  with  the  pure;  the  fact  that  she  does  not,  is  evidence 
against  her,  and  I  accept  it  as  conclusive.  But,  wrong 
ways  always  end  in  trouble  to  those  who  walk  therein^ 
and  she  is  finding  this  out.  She's  had  a  flare  up  with  her 
husband,  probably.  Some  kind  friend  has  informed  him, 
no  doubt,  that  his  wife  is  the  dashing  young  beauty  referred 
to  in  the  Mercury.  People,  you  know,  always  have  kind 
friends  ready  to  tell  them  the  latest  bad  news." 

A  servant  opened  the  door,  and  said  — 

"  There's  a  lady  down  stairs,  ma'am." 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"I  think  she  said  Mrs.  Jankin,  or  Mrs.  Janton.  I  asked 
her  over  again,  but  she  spoke  so  low  that  I  can't  be  cer 
tain." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lawrence  turned,  with  a  slight  start,  and 
looked  at  each  other. 

"  Don't  see  her,"  said  the  husband,  in  an  undertone. 

"  Mrs.  Jansen,  perhaps  ?  "  Mrs.  Lawrence  spoke  to  the 
servant. 


108  OUT   IN   THE    WORLD. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  I  guess  that  was  it,"  replied  the  girl. 

"  Say  that  I  will  be  down  in  a  moment "  — 

"  Jessie  ! "  Mr.  Lawrence  uttered  his  wife's  name  in 
authoritative  remonstrance ;  but  she  did  not  recall  her 
words.  The  servant  went  out.  As  she  closed  the  door, 
Mr.  Lawrence  said  speaking  resolutely  — 

"  You  must  not  see  this  woman  !  " 

u  Why  not  ?  "  calmly  asked  his  wife,  who  had  already 
laid  aside  her  work. 

"  I  think  reasons  enough  have  been  stated  here  to-night," 
replied  Mr.  Lawrence. 

"  Not  satisfactory  to  my  mind,"  was  firmly  answered. 
"You  know  that  I  am  no  summer  friend  —  that  when  I 
have  faith  it  is  not  easily  shaken.  My  poor  friend  must 
be  in  sore  trouble,  or  she  would  not  come  all  the  way  from 
her  home  in  New  York  to  visit  me  at  this  late  hour.  Of 
course  I  shall  see  her.  She  can  do  me  no  harm,  and  I 
may  do  her  much  good." 

And  rising,  she  moved  past  her  husband  with  a  quiet 
firmness  of  manner  that  he  made  no  effort  to  oppose,  un 
derstanding,  as  he  did,  the  strength  of  her  will  when  sho 
acted  from  love  or  duty. 

."Why, Madeline!  "What  has  happened?"  Mrs.  Law 
rence  entered  the  parlor  hurriedly,  and  stood  face  to  face 
with  her  unhappy  friend.  A  faint  smile  tried,  for  an  instant 
to  form  itself  on  Madeline's  lips,  but  lost  itself  amid  lines 
of  suffering.  An  effort  to  speak  followed,  but  only  mute 
signs  were  visible.  Her  face  was  pale  and  pinched,  like 
the  face  of  one  who  had  been  sick. 

"  What  has  happened,  dear  ?  "  Mrs.  Lawrence  repeated 
her  question  in  a  tenderer  voice,  as  she  held  tightly  her 
friend's  hand.  "Have  you  been  sick?"  A  new  thought 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  109 

came,  in  explanation  of  this  untimely  visit  and  the  strange 
appearance  of  Madeline.  She  had  been  ill,  and  wandering 
in  mind,  had  risen  and  gone  away  from  home  without  be 
ing  observed.  The  thought  thrilled  her  with  a  feeling  of 
alarm. 

"  Have  you  been  sick  ?  "  She  asked  the  question  again. 
* "  I  am  sick  —  sick !  O  yes,  I  am  sick,  Jessie ! "  sobbed 
out  Mrs.  Jansen,  her  eyes  flooding  with  tears ;  and  sho 
bent  down  her  face  and  hid  it  on  the  bosom  of  her  friend, 
who  drew  an  arm  tightly  around  her.  She  was  tremb 
ling  like  a  frightened  child.  As  she  stood,  shrinking  down 
against  her,  Mrs.  Lawrence  perceived  the  tremor  of  her 
body  growing  less,  and  at  the  same  time  noticed  the  weight 
increasing,  so  that  she  had  to  brace  herself  to  its  support. 

"Madeline!"  she  said,  anxiously.  But  there  was  no 
reply.  "  Madeline  ! "  she  repeated.  Even  while  the  name 
parted  her  lips,  she  was  grasping  her  poor  friend  tightly 
to  keep  her  from  falling  to  the  floor.  DraAving  her  to  a 
sofa,  she  laid  her  down,  and  as  her  head  fell  back  upon 
one  of  the  cushions,  Mrs.  Lawrence  saw  that  she  had 
fainted. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

HE  has  thought  better  of  this,"  said 
Carl  Jansen  to  himself,  as  he  walked 
homeward  at  evening.  But,  he  did 
not  feel  the  confidence  his  words  ex 
pressed.  A  dead  weight  was  lying  on 
his  heart.  Might  not  all  this  be  a  ter 
rible  dream  ?  Oh,  that  he  could  awake ! 
A  desolate  silence  appeared  to  reign 
through  the  house  as  he  entered.  The 
air  had  a  real  or  imaginary  chilliness, 
that  sent  a  shudder  along  his  nerves. 

"  No,  she  had  not  thought  better  of  this !  Carl  did  not 
yet  clearly  understand  his  wife's  character.  "I  shall  find 
her  at  home,"  he  said  to  himself,  many  times,  during  that 
troubled  afternoon.  But,  he  did  not  find  her  at  home.  All 
was  as  he  had  left  it  at  dinner  time.  Not  a  chair  had 
been  moved  in  the  sitting-room,  not  a  book  taken  from  its 
place  in  the  library,  not  a  curtain  drawn  in  their  chamber. 
Not  the  slightest  change  in  the  strict  order  of  things 
since  he  went  away.  How  dreary  it  was !  He  asked  no 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  Ill 

questions  of  the  servants,  and  they,  reading  pain  and  mys 
tery  in  his  face,  did  not  venture  to  question.  But,  they 
understood  that  something  was  wrong  between  him  and 
his  wife. 

At  the  tea  table,  fronting  him,  Jansen  saw,  in  the  space 
vacant  to  material  vision,  that  fixed,  stony  image  which 
had  been  present  to  him  all  day,  and  in  all  places  —  his 
wife  as  he  had  left  her  in  the  morning.  Eating  was  only 
a  pretence.  After  taking  a  cup  of  tea,  he  went  up  stairs. 
What  next  ?  Should  he  go  out,  or  remain  at  home  ?  As 
to  answering  his  wife's  letter,  or  in  any  way  communica 
ting  with  her,  that  was  not  in  all  his  thoughts.  Pride, 
and  a  spirit  of  dogged  adherence  to  any  accepted  line  of 
conduct,  prevented  this.  He  did  not  even  remember  the 
place  at  which,  she  had  said  a  letter  would  reach  her. 
Suffer  what  he  might  in  this  contest,  from  one  purpose 
Jansen  did  not  waver  for  an  instant.  He  would  not  pur 
sue  his  fugitive  wife  —  would  offer  no  persuasions  to  re 
turn  —  would  remain  silent  and  passive.  He  had  done 
nothing  to  provoke  the  step  she  had  taken  —  so  he  talked 
with  himself —  and,  therefore,  he  had  no  apologies  or  con 
cessions  to  offer.  In  her  communication,  she  had  dictated 
terms  —  that  was  his  reading  of  her  letter  —  and  he 
would  listen  to  no  dictation  from  a  woman,  even  if  she 
were  his  wife.  To  yield  in  anything,  was  to  yield  all. 
This  was  her  desperate  venture  for  the  supremacy ;  but 
she  would  find  herself  mistaken  in  his  character  —  her 
venture  would  fail. 

"  If  I  say  '  come  back,' "  Carl  remembered  this  touch 
ing  sentence  in  his  wife's  letter ;  but  he  did  not  feel  its 
true  meaning.  " No"  he  spoke  out  sternly,  " I  will  not 
say  come  back !  I  might  as  well  yield  everything ;  become 


112  OUT   IN   THE    WOULD. 

an  appendage  to  my  wife,  instead  of  her  head  and  hus 
band.  No — no!  I  do  not  thus  understand  my  duty. 
On  the  natui-e  of  things,  on  legality,  on  religion,  I  set  my 
feet,  and  there  I  will  stand.  If  Madeline  ignores  all  these, 
and  makes  a  desperate  effort  to  drive  me  into  ignoring 
them,  she  will  find,  to  her  cost,  that  I  am  not  a  willow 
wand  that  she  can  bend  as  she  pleases,  but  a  sturdy  oak, 
defiant  of  her  little  strength." 

So  he  fortified  himself  in  his  position.  He  did  not  be 
lieve  that  Madeline  could,  or  would  hold  out  for  any  great 
length  of  time.  He  thought  it  more  than  probable,  that, 
ere  bedtime,  she  would  return  home,  humbled  and  repent 
ant.  She  was  subject  to  sudden  and  strong  revulsions  of 
feeling  —  was  impulsive,  and  acted  often  under  the  first 
inspiration  of  an  impulse.  She  had  so  acted  on  going 
away;  and  a  change  of  feeling  would  bring  her  home 
again. 

The  hours  passed,  but  Madeline  did  not  return.  Jan- 
sen  found  himself  deceived.  He  did  not  grow  softer,  but 
harder,  as  the  time  wore  on,  and  it  became  more  and 
more  clearly  evident,  that  Madeline  would  not  be  at  homo 
that  night. 

Ten  o'clock  had  been  rung  out  by  the  time  piece  on  the 
mantel,  and  Jansen  was  sitting,  crouched  in  a  large  ensy- 
chair  —  the  image  of  calm  repose  without,  but  all  ngita- 
tion  within  —  when  he  heard  the  street  door  bell.  Ho 
did  not  stir,  but  listened  intently.  A  servant  passed 
along  the  hall.  As  she  opened  the  door,  he  held  his 
breath.  A  voice.  Not  a  woman's  voice  !  He  felt  a  chill 
of  disappointment.  A  man  had  entered,  and  the  servant 
had  shown  him  into  the  parlor. 

"  A  gentleman  wishes  to  see  you,  sir.    Mr.  Lawrence." 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  113 

"  Very  well.     I  will  be  down." 

The  servant  retired. 

"  Mr.  Lawrence !  What  can  he  want,  at  this  hour  ?  " 
said  Jansen.  "  It's  rather  strange ! "  His  thought  went 
naturally,  to  his  wife,  and  connected  her  with  the  visit. 
Mrs.  Lawrence  was  an  old  friend  of  Madeline's.  After 
perplexing  himself  for  a  little  while  as  to  the  import  of 
this  visit,  Jansen  went  to  the  parlor  carefully  schooling 
his  exterior,  he  met  Mr.  Lawrence  with  a  quiet  courtesy, 
that  completely  hid  his  real  state  of  mind.  For  a  few 
moments,  the  two  men  looked  inquiringly  at  each  other. 
In  surprise  at  Jansen's  manner,  Mr.  Lawrence  at  first 
thought  the  absence  of  his  wife  unknown  to  him. 

"  Mrs.  Jansen,  is  at  my  house,"  he  said,  coming  at  once 
to  the  purport  of  his  visit. 

There  followed  no  start  —  no  look  of  surprise  —  no 
marked  change  of  any  kind. 

"Is  she?"  The  coldness  of  voice  —  the  indifference 
of  manner  —  chilled  Mr.  Lawrence.  He  moved  back  a 
step  or  two.  Jansen  did  not  ask  him  to  resume  the  seat 
from  which  he  had  arisen. 

"  Do  you  wish  to  communicate  with  her  ? "  asked 
Mr.  Lawrence,  uttering  the  first  thought  that  came  into 
his  mind. 

"  No,  sir ! "  Jansen  shook  his  head,  and  shut  his  mouth 
closely.  His  voice  and  mien  were  icy. 

"  Good  evening ! "  said  Mr.  Lawrence,  bowing  stiffly, 
and  retiring  towards  the  door. 

"  Good  evening,"  returned  Jansen,  not  relaxing  a  fea 
ture,  or  softening  his  tones. 

"  The  next  time  I  go  on  a  fool's  errand,"  so  Mr.  Law 
rence  spoke  with  himself  as  he  shut  the  door  behind  him, 


114  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"I'll  be  a  greater  fool  than  I  am  now.  I  might  have 
known  how  it  was !  He's  turned  her  out  of  doors  for 
vicious  conduct ;  and  I'm  served  right  for  meddling  in  the 
matter.  All  Jessie's  geese  are  swans.  She'll  keep  to  her 
faith  in  this  woman  after  her  vileness  is  known  to  all  thu 
world.  But,  she  shall  not  harbor  in  my  house ;  I'm  re 
solved  on  that.  The  air  that  my  wife  breathes  shall  not 
be  polluted  by  one  like  her.  Faugh  !  I'm  mad  with  my 
self!  What  will  Jansen  think  ?  He'll  put  my  wife  on  a 
par  with  this  woman.  Their  names  will  be  spoken  to 
gether  ! " 

This  thought  chafed  him  sharply.  He  knew  how  pure 
and  true  his  wife  was,  and  he  could  not  bear  that  her  good 
name  should  be  sullied  by  a  slanderous  breath. 

"I'll  settle  this  matter!  "  So  he  continued  talking  with 
himself  as  he  hurried  homeward,  gathering  hardness  by 
the  way.  "  Sick  or  well,  in  the  morning  she  goes  from 
my  house.  Jessie  must  stand  aside.  I  will  not  be  ar 
gued  with,  persuaded,  nor  set  at  naught.  So  vile  a  wo 
man  shall  not  poison  the  atmosphere  of  my  home." 

"I  knew  just  how  it  was!  "  said  Mr.  Lawrence,  angrily, 
on  getting  home  and  meeting  his  wife. 

"  Did  you  see  Mr.  Jansen  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Lawrence,  her 
voice  choking  a  little. 

"Yes." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"I  told  him  that  his  wife  was  at  my  house  ;  to  which 
he  answered,  'Is  she?'  as  coldly  as  if  I  had  mentioned 
the  most  trivial  circumstance.  He  did  not  seem  even  an 
noyed.  <Do  you  wish  to  communicate  with  her?'  I 
asked,  and  he  said,  curtly,  *  No,  sir  ? '  My  next  words 
were,  '  Good  evening,'  to  which  he  replied,  '  Good  even- 


OUT   IN   THE   WOULD.  115 

ing,'  when  I  came  away.  Now,  isn't  that  beautiful !  What 
must  a  wife  be  —  what  must  a  wife  have  done  —  when 
her  husband  thus  acts  towards  her  ?  She  has  left  him  of 
her  own  will,  or  been  turned  out  of  doors,  and  he  doesn't 
care  a  farthinff  what  becomes  of  her.  There's  one  thinir 

O  O 

certain,  Jessie,  she  cannot  remain  here.  I  wont  have  your 
name  mixed  up  with  hers.  On  that  I  am  resolved.  To 
morrow  morning  she  must  go  away." 

Mrs.  Lawrence  did  not  reply.  She  had  dropped  her 
eyes  away  from  those  of  her  husband,  and  was  looking 
down  at  the  floor.  Her  face,  which  had  flushed  eagerly 
as  he  came  in,  had  already  grown  pale.  She  looked  hurt 
—  stunned  —  grieved. 

"  I  knew  she  was  a  vile,  wicked  woman ! "  Mr.  Lawrence 
spoke  with  indignation. 

Mrs.  Lawrence  only  shook  her  head. 

"  The  devil  would  be  a  saint  in  your  esteem,  if — " 

Mr.  Lawrence  stopped.  The  eyes  of  his  wife  had  lifted 
themselves  from  the  floor,  and  were  resting  steadily  in 
his  face. 

"  And  this  is  all  that  passed  between  you  and  Mr.  Jan- 
sen  ?  "  she  said. 

"  All.  And  wasn't  that  enough  ?  What  more  would 
you  have  had  him  say?  A  husband  may  not  choose  to 
denounce  his  wife." 

"  It  is  always  safest  to  infer  good,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"And  so  take  a  thief  into  your  house,  under  the  pleas 
ant  delusion  that  he  is  honest.  No,  Jessie,  it  is  always 
safest  to  infer  evil." 

"  And  so  hurt  the  innocent.  I  am  no  believer  in  this 
philosophy.  Good  or  evil,  Madeline  cannot  hurt  me.  But, 
evil  I  will  not  credit  against  her  in  the  absence  of  proof." 


116  OUT   IN   THE    WORLD. 

"In  the  absence  of  proof !  You  amaze  me,  Jessie! 
Common  report  has  long  been  against  her,  and  now  her 
husband  has  turned  her  from  his  house.  What  more  do 
you  want  ?  " 

"  Report  is  no  proof,  Mr.  Lawrence.  As  to  her  having 
been  turned  out  of  doors  by  her  husband,  we  have  only 
your  inference.  She  may  have  left  him  of  her  own  free 
will.  More  probably,  in  a  state  of  partial  derangement, 
which  he  did  not  perceive,  and,  therefore,  remains  blind 
and  angry.  I  knew  Madeline  intimately,  and  cannot  be 
mistaken  in  her.  Be  her  faults  and  errors  what  they  may, 
I  do  not  believe  her  impure.  Impulsive,  strong-willed, 
thoughtless,  imprudent,  if  you  will ;  all  these,  but  not  evil. 
I  must  have  very  conclusive  proof  to  credit  this." 

"  Well,  it's  no  use  to  talk,  Jessie,"  answered  Mr.  Law 
rence,  in  a  most  positive  manner.  "  She  is  not  going  to 
remain  in  this  house,  after  to-night.  Bag  and  baggage, 
she  must  be  off  to-morrow  morning.  I  don't  want  any  of 
your  '  ifs,'  or  '  buts.'  I  want  you  to  see  that  what  I  say 
comes  to  pass." 

To  this,  Mrs.  Lawrence  made  no  reply.  Her  face  was 
clouded  and  troubled.  She  turned  a  little  aside  from  her 
husband ;  not  looking  acquiescence.  He  saw  this,  and 
commenced  walking  the  floor,  fuming,  and  threatening 
magnificently,  as  weak  men,  who  find  themselves  amid 
baflling  circumstances,  do  sometimes.  This  was  only 
"  beating  the  air,"  as  he  felt,  and  his  state  of  turbulence 
in  a  little  while  subsided. 

Mr.  Jansen  sat  down,  after  his  visitor's  hasty  withdraw 
al,  not  feeling  altogether  satisfied  with  what  he  had  clone. 
To  say  the  least,  he  had  been  neither  courteous  nor  gen 
tlemanly.  He  remembered,  that  Mr.  Lawrence  lived  in 


OUT   IN   THE   WOKLD.  117 

Brooklyn,  a  distance  of  over  two  miles  from  his  residence 
in  New  York,  and  that  the  evening  was  far  gone.  Some 
thing  was  due  to  him.  He  had  taken  no  small  trouble  in 
giving  information  about  his  wife.  Jansen's  love  of  ap 
probation  was  hurt.  He  desired  to  stand  well  in  the  eyes 
of  other  people ;  to  be  always  right  before  the  world. 
But,  he  was  not  right  in  this  —  he  stood  self-convicted  of 
an  unpardonable  rudeness. 

This  was  not  the  only  source  of  dissatisfaction.  He 
was  far  from  being  indifferent  in  regard  to  his  wife,  or 
what  concerned  her.  Instead,  he  was  deeply  interested, 
his  inward  sense  hearkening  after  her  departing  footsteps 
with  painful  eagerness.  Any  sound,  and  sign,  any  shad 
ow  of  intelligence  would  have  been  gladly  received  ;  only 
pride  would  not  let  him  show  the  least  desire,  or  take  a 
single  step  in  the  direction  his  heart  was  going.  He  need 
not  have  taken  a  step  in  this  case  —  need  scarcely  have 
asked  a  question.  To  his  thirsty  lips  a  cup  had  been 
raised,  and  in  blind  self-will  he  had  dashed  it  aside. 

"  Over  in  Brooklyn,  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Lawrence ! 
What  can  she  be  doing  there  ?  "  So  at  last  the  burden 
of  thought  found  relief  in  words. 

He  remembered  Mrs.  Lawrence  as  one  of  Madeline's 
early  acquaintances.  He  had  liked  her,  for  her  intelligence 
and  womanly  bearing ;  and  had  more  than  once  regretted 
that  in  his  wife's  absorption  among  more  showy  and  spe 
cious  friends,  she  had  virtually  dropped  this  one.  Mr.  Law 
rence,  whom  he  met  occasionally  in  business,  he  did  not 
like. 

What  was  she  doing  there  ?  He  might  have  known. 
The  information  he  now  so  desired  to  possess,  had  been 
just  within  his  reach  —  tendered,  not  asked  —  and  he  had 


118  OUT   IK   THE   WOULD. 

put  it  roughly  aside.  The  fact  that  she  had  gone  to  the 
house  of  Mr.  Lawrence,  was  favorable  to  her  in  his  eyes- 
As  he  thought  of  it,  a  sense  of  relief  came.  Mrs.  Law 
rence  was  a  sensible  woman  —  free  from  all  modern  fan 
cies  and  transcendentalisms.  One  from  whom  good  advice 
and  good  influence  might  be  expected.  She  would  coun 
sel  Madeline  for  her  good  —  advise  her  to  return  to  her 
husband  and  her  duty.  Jansen  grew  more  confident  of 
this,  as  thought  dwelt  on  the  fact  that  his  wife  was  with 
this  old  and  true  friend.  The  case  looked  hopeful  — 
Madeline  would  find  no  encouragement  for  her  perversity 
with  Mrs.  Lawrence.  Under  her  better  influence,  she 
would  be  led  to  see  how  wrong  she  was  acting.  She 

o  o 

would  come  back,  humbled  and  penitent;  he  would  be 
vindicated.  Pride,  self-will,  love  of  rule  and  predomi 
nance,  conceit  of  superiority  —  all  these  would  remain  un 
touched.  Master  in  his  own  house,  with  not  a  preroga 
tive  yielded,  he  would  continue  to  be. 

The  satisfaction  born  of  thought  like  this,  was  soon  mar 
red  by  questions  as  to  how  his  unmannerly  repulse  of  Mr. 
Lawrence  would  affect  the  case.  Would  it  not  give  strong 
color  to  any  representations  his  wife  might  make  in  re 
gard  to  him,  and  tend  to  draw  Mrs.  Lawrence  over  to  her 
side  ?  There  were  probabilities  in  this  view  of  the  case 
that  troubled  him.  But,  there  was  no  helping  it  now. 
He  was  not  the  man  to  concede  anything ;  to  humiliate 
himself  by  coming  down  from  any  assumed  position. 
He  could  not  write  to  Mr.  Lawrence,  nor  go  to  him. 
Could  not  make  the  faintest  sign  without  losing  some 
thing  that  his  narrow  soul  held  dear.  So  he  must  stand 
still  and  wait.  If  Madeline  came  back,  well ;  if  she  "  per 
sisted  in  her  folly  and  crime,"  the  consequences  to  him 


OUT   IN   THE   WOKLD.  119 

must  be  accepted  and  borne.  He  thought  coolly  to  his 
conclusions,  not  wavering  for  an  instant.  With  him, 
there  was  no  quick  fusing  of  thought  into  determina 
tions,  that  hardened  rapidly,  then  fused  quickly  again 
flowing  into  new  forms.  Nothing  of  the  kind.  He  had 
no  versatility  of  character,  so  to  speak.  All  his  ratioci 
nations  moved  in  a  narrow,  circle,  with  constant  precipita 
tions  upon  old  ideas,  which  grew  and  grew  into  daily  in 
creasing  importance  in  his  eyes. 

Another  thought  disturbed  the  tranquil  state  which  had 
begun  to  settle  over  his  feelings.  Might  not  the  utter  in 
difference  he  had  manifested  in  regard  to  his  wife,  have 
the  effect  to  create  unjust  suspicions  against  her  in  the 
eyes  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lawrence?  Might  it  not  lead  them 
to  turn  away  from  her,  and  so  leave  her  adrift,  to  float  with 
some  evil  tide  on  a  disastrous  shore  ?  Well  might  this 
thought  trouble  him 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


ItS.  Jan  sen  had  recovered  from  her 
fainting  fit  while  Mr.  Lawrence  was 
in  New  York.  In  the  excitement  oc- 
casioned  by  the  swoon,  Mrs.  Lawrence 
had  urged  her  husband  to  go  over  to 
kthe  city,  and  inform  Mr.  Jansen  of 
his  wife's  presence  in  their  house. 

"  She  is  not  in  her  right  mind,"  was 
the   appeal   and   argument.      "I  am 
sure  that  she  has  escaped  from  a  sick 
room.   Mr.  Jansen  must  be  in  terrible 
suspense  and  alarm." 

This  did  not  seem  altogether  improbable,  and  so  Mr. 
Lawrence  went  over  to  the  city.  His  reception  we  have 
seen.  During  his  absence  Mrs.  Jansen  had  recovered. 
The  truth  then  came  out,  told  with  a  mingling  of  sobs  and 
tears — flashes  of  womanly  anger  and  resolute  words. 
Mrs.  Lawrence  listened  in  painful  silence  and  with  brim 
ming  eyes,  not  venturing  in  her  friend's  state  of  excite 
ment,  to  offer  counsel. 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  121 

I 

"  I  am  a  leaf,  drifting  away  on  a  strange  current,  Jes 
sie,"  said  Madeline,  in  the  calmness  that  succeeded,  when 
she  had  told  her  story.  "  A  tender  thought  of  you,  as  one 
always  loved,  has  borne  me  into  the  peaceful  eddy  of  your 
home.  Let  me  stay  for  just  a  little  while  —  a  very  little 
while.  I  will  then  float  off  again  into  the  current,  to  be 
carried,  Heaven  only  knows  whither ! "  , 

"  We  will  talk  of  this  to-morrow,  dear  friend,"  was  an 
swered.  "  The  Providence  which  led  you  hither,  will  guide 
you  in  the  future.  To-night  let  thought  rest,  and  all  your 
hastily  formed  purposes  recede,  and  be  as  if  they  had  not 
been.  Sleep  gives  a  healthier  tone  to  mind  as  well  as 
body.  You  will  be  calmer  and  have  clearer  sight  in  the 
morning.  I  will  leave  you  now."  And  Mrs.  Lawrence 
kissed  Madeline  tenderly.  Sleep  came  quickly.  There 
was  an  opiate  in  the  kiss  which  love  had  laid  on  lips  and 
eyelids. 

Madeline  did  not  join  the  family  at  breakfast-time  next 
morning.  Mrs.  Lawrence  had  gone  into  her  room  early, 
and  found  her  waking  and  weeping. 

"  Do  not  rise  yet,"  she  had  said.  "  We  breakfast  early,  so 
that  Mr.  Lawrence  may  get  off  to  business.  I  will  come 
to  you  after  he  has_gone." 

"  He  is  not  pleased  at  my  being  here."  Something  in 
the  voice  of  Mrs.  Lawrence,  as  she  mentioned  her  husband's 
name,  betrayed  to  the  quick  ears  of  Madeline  the  truth. 
"  I  might  have  known  this,"  she  added,  with  a  shade  of 
bitterness  —  "  all  men  are  against  us.  But  I  will  not  trou 
ble  him  long." 

"Don't  talk  so,  Maddy, dear;  it  does  no  good,  and  hurts 
your  state  of  mind,"  returned  Mrs.  Lawrence,  with  in 
creased  affectionateness  of  manner.  "  Men  do  not  always 
c 


122  OUT    IN    THE    WORLD. 

see  as  we  see.  How  should  they  ?  They  misunderstand 
us,  and  we,  it  is  quite  possible,  as  often  misunderstand 
them.  Let  us  be  charitable  —  forbearing  —  not  ready  to 
think  evil.  We  get  down  to  the  heart  of  a  thing  by  a 
quicker  way  than  it  is  given  men  to  go,  and  should  be 
patient  with  their  slowness.  If  they  are  wrong-headed 
sometimes,  we  may  often  be  perverse  in  feeling,  and  I  have 
an  impression  that  there  is  more  hope  of  the  wrong  head 
than  of  the  wrong  heart.  There !  there ! "  And  Mrs. 
Lawrence  laid  her  finger  on  her  friend's  lips  —  "I  did  not 
mean  to  provoke  a  discussion :  I  was  speaking  only  in 
apology  for  the  other  sex.  Lie  still  for  a  little  while 
longer.  I  will  come  to  you  in  half  an  hour ;  then  you  shall 
rise  and  have  breakfast ;  the  day  will  be  ours." 

As  Mr.  Lawrence  stood  in  the  hall,  with  hat  and  gloves 
on  ready  to  leave,  he  said  to  his  wife  — 

"  Now,  understand  me,  Jessie,  that  woman  is  not  to  har 
bor  here.  I  do  not  wish  to  find  her  in  the  house  when  I 
come  home." 

"  Don't  give  yourself  unnecessary  trouble,"  was  answered 
by  Mrs.  Lawrence,  her  quietness  of  tone  contrasting  with 
her  husband's  ruffled  manner  —  "  Madeline  will-not  intrude 
herself.  I  think  you  will  not  find  her  here  when  you 
come  home ;  but,  if  she  leaves  to-day,  it  will  be  against 
my  wishes.  I  would  rather  have  her  remain  for  a  week. 
Don't  frown,  and  look  so  angry  and  impatient !  It  is  for 
us  to  do  good  when  God  gives  the  opportunity.  This 
opportunity  He  has  now  given.  A  woman,  still  pure  and 
true  to  all  high  ends,  as  for  as  she  can  see  them  in  the 
blindness  of  hurt  feelings  and  under  bad  counsel,  is  cut 
ting  hei'self  away  from  safe  moorings.  If  she  drift  off  into 
the  world  without  chart  or  compass,  there  is  danger  of 


OUT    IN    THE    WORLD.  123 

wreck  and  loss  of  everything.  Ours  may  be  the  high 
privilege  of  saving  her." 

"Thank  you!  Don't  say  ours!"  gruffly,  yet  weakly 
responded  Mr.  La\*  rencc.  "  If  I  have  any  "mission  *  in 
the  world,  which  I  doubt,  it  doesn't  lie  in  that  direction  : 
and  I  tell  you  once  for  all,  Jessie,  that  I  don't  mean  to 
have  you  mixed  up  with  any  of  these  things.  Let  her 
drift  off,  if  she  wants  to ;  what  is  it  your  business  or  mine  ? 
If  you  stop  to  draw  back  into  harbor  every  vagrant-souled 
woman  that  breaks  from  her  moorings,  you'll  have  enough 
work  on  hand  for  a  legion  of  angels." 

"  If  I  can  do,  in  a  single  instance,  the  work  in  which 
angels  delight,  will  you  stepin  between  me  and  that  work?" 
Mrs.  Lawrence's  calm  eyes  rested  upon  her  husband.  Her 
voice,  clear  and  firm,  yet  impressive,  subdued  the  captious 
spirit  that  dwelt  within  him.  She  stood  brave  and  strong 
before  him,  not  in  personal  defiance,  but  in  the  strength  of 
a  right  will,  that  illustrated  her  husband's  thought  in  spite 
of  his  prejudice  and  passion. 

"  You'll  have  it  your  own  way,  I  suppose,"  he  answered, 
fretfully.  Women  always  do,  husbands  are  nothing  now- 
a-days.  Good  for  working  and  providing  —  that's  about 
all.  But  it  doesn't  signify.  I  set  my  face  as  steel  against 
you  all.  Harbor  the  woman,  if  you  will,  but  understand 
that  in  doing  so  you  set  your  husband  at  defiance.  You 
needn't  expect  me  to  play  the  smiling  host.  Keep  her 
out  of  my  way,  if  you  don't  want  her  insulted." 

So,  warming,  as  confused  thought  came  into  speech 
again,  Mr.  Lawrence  talked  after  his  irrational  way  when 
excited  by  opposing  influences. 

"My  husband  is  too  much  of  a  gentleman,"  quietly  an 
swered  Mrs.  Lawrence,  "to  offer  in  his  own  house  an  insult 
to  a  suffering  and  helpless  woman." 


124  OUT   IN   TUB    WORLD. 

"  Mr.  Lawrence,  an  impatient  sentence  on  his  lips  that 
his  wife  could  not  make  out,  turned  off  abruptly,  passing 
through  the  street  door,  which  he  shut  with  a  jar  that 
Avas  felt  over  the  house. 

After  Madeline  had  risen  and  taken  some  breakfast,  the 
two  friends  retired  to  Mrs.  Lawrence's  chamber. 

M  You  blame  me,  Jessie,  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Jansen ; 
"  but  you  do  not  comprehend  my  case.  As  a  wife  and 
equal,  I  would  cling  to  my  husband  through  good  and 
evil  report  —  in  sickness,  poverty  and  disgrace  —  under 
any  and  all  circumstances  of  outside  wrong  and  oppres 
sion.  His  love  would  bind  me  by  cords  impossible  to  be 
broken.  As  a  slave,  in  confessed  inferiority,  I  cannot 
remain  in  his  house.  Better  for  us  to  live  apart  than  in 
strife.  This  issue  I  have  made  in  going  away.  I  left  for 
him,  written  in  plain,  earnest  tender  words,  a  letter,  clearly 
stating  the  case  as  it  stands  between  us.  If  he  answers 
that  letter,  and  says  return,  I  will  go  back,  hoping  and 
rejoicing.  If  he  keeps  silence,  I  shall  never  cross  his 
threshold  again." 

"Purposes  that  involve  so  much  ought  never  to  be 
made  under  strong  excitement,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence. 
"  A  wife  should  bear  and  forbear  a  great  deal,  before  tak 
ing  the  step  that  you  have  taken." 

"I  have  borne  until  longer  forbearance  would  be  a 
crime  against  my  sex,"  replied  Mrs.  Jansen,  her  eyes 
kindling. 

"  Touching  the  crime  against  your  sex,  Madeline,  I  hard 
ly  think  that  an  issue  in  this  case  with  your  husband.     The 
trouble  is  between  you  and  him,  and  should  not  be  com 
plicated  with  remote  considerations.     You  cannot  deter 
mine  your  course  wisely,  on  general  principles  or  results. 


OUT   IX   THE   WORLD.  125 

Everything  must  be  narrowed  down  to  the  relation  exist 
ing  between  you  and  your  husband." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Mrs.  Jansen.  "  No 
individual  stands  alone  in  the  world  ;  no  act  is  without  its 
good  or  bad  influence  on  society.  The  rights  and  happi 
ness  of  our  sex  should  be  dear  to  every  woman.  Too 
long  have  we  disregarded  them,  leaving  the  weak  without 
counsel  or  advocate.  Now,  the  time  has  come  when  every 
true  woman,  if  she  does  her  duty,  will  see  to  it,  that  so 
far  as  her  acts  speak  to  the  world,  they  speak  against 
man's  tyrannies.  Mine  shall,  even  though  I  be  burned  at 
the  stake ! " 

"  Madeline,"  answered  Mrs.  Lawrence,  "  nothing  tells 
for  good  on  society  like  right  individual  action.  Not 
heroic  action  before  the  world,  but  self-denying  and  loving 
deeds  in  the  sphere  of  private  life.  This  separation  from 
your  husband,  if  it  should,  unfortunately,  continue,  will  do 
an  amount  of  harm  to  our  sex,  impossible  to  estimate." 

"  Harm !    I  do  not  understand  you." 

"  The  deepest  wrong  a  woman  can  receive  must  always 
come  from  her  own  hand.  Others  cannot  harm  us  vitally, 
if  we  are  true  to  ourselves.  They  may  assault  and  annoy 
us  —  may  wrong  us  externally  —  keep  back  the  rights  and 
privileges  to  which  we  are  entitled  by  nature  —  but  can 
not  touch  the  inner  life,  if  that  be  the  dwelling-place  of 
virtue,  truth  and  purity.  Your  example  in  this  act  of 
separation,  may  lead  others  of  our  sex,  not  well  based  in 
principle,  to  follow  in  the  same  path,  and  so  abandon 
their  duty  and  harm  their  souls.  The  case  must  always 
be  a  hard  one  that  justifies  the  step  you  are  taking.  Hard 
er,  a  great  deal  harder,  Madeline,  than  I  am  satisfied  yours 
has  been.  Carl  may  have  narrow  views  of  his  marital 


126  OUT   IN"    THE    WORLD. 

rights,  and  he  may  bo  self-willed  and  persistent  in  his  as 
sertion  of  these  rights ;  all  of  which  must  chafe  a  woman 
of  your  temperament.  But,  he  is  a  virtuous  and  an  hon 
orable  man  ;  and  that  is  a  great  deal.  I  know  pure,  sweet, 
loving  women  whose  husbands  are  brutalized  sensualists, 
or  men  without  honor.  Their  lot  is  a  terrible  one  com 
pared  with  yours ;  but,  they  do  not  abandon  their  places 
nor  relinquish  their  duties,  because  the  men  they  mar 
ried  of  free  choice,  have  proved  unworthy.  The  compact 
is  until  death  do  part  them.  Their  feet  walk  in  difficult 
places  —  they  have  sore  tribulations  —  but  they  are  grow 
ing,  daily,  unto  the  beauty  of  angels ;  fitter  for  heaven. 
Every  time  I  meet  them,  I  perceive  an  odor  of  new  blos 
soming  flowers,  the  promise  of  immortal  fruitage.  They 
have  not  been  hurt,  interiorly,  by  their  unhappy  manages, 
because  they  would  not  hurt  themselves.  Beware,  then, 
my  dear  friend !  If  harm  come,  the  blow  will  be  from 
your  own  hand." 

"  I  am  not  able  to  see  in  the  light  of  your  views,"  an 
swered  Mrs.  Jansen.  "  They  involve  the  old  notions  men 
are  so  fond  of  preaching  about.  They  may  be,  and  do, 
what  they  please ;  but  women  must  be  saints  and  angels ! 
Now,  I  am  human,  and  do  not  pretend  to  be  anything  else. 
I  have  human  wants,  human  rights,  human  passions ;  and 
recognize  the  human  right  of  self-protection.  If  I  am  as 
sailed,  I  will  defend  myself — if  wronged,  I  will  seek  to 
right  the  wrong.  The  assailer  and  the  wrong-doer  shall 
not  have  immunity  and  encouragement  through  my  tame 
submission.  No,  no,  Jessie  !  %  I  am  not  one  of  your  meek 
women-angels." 

Mrs.  Lawrence  sighed,  dropped  her  eyes  to  the  floor, 
and  remained  silent.  To  argue  with  Madeline,  in  her 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  127 

present  temper,  would,  she  saw,  only  lead  her  into  stronger 
states  of  self-justification.  A  few  moments  passed,  when 
Mrs.  Jansen  continued  — 

"  There  have  been  martyrs  to  the  right  in  all  ages ;  and 
martyrdoms  must  continue  so  long  as  there  is  evil,  and 
consequent  wrong,  in  the  world.  Men  set  tyrants  at  defi 
ance,  battle  for  freedom,  and  achieve  independence.  They 
would  be  slaves,  and  unworthy  of  freedom,  if  this  were 
not  so.  And  shall  woman  be  the  only  coward  in  tho 
world !  The  only  slave  !  No.  By  all  that  is  just,  by  all 
that  is  heroic,  by  all  that  is  right,  no ! " 

Still  Mrs.  Lawrence  kept  silent. 

"You  do  not  see  as  I  do,"  said  Madeline,  her  voice 
dropping  down  from  its  enthusiasm. 

"No;  you  see  from  one  stand-point,  and  I  from  anoth 
er,"  was  replied.  "  As  to  whether  your  view  or  mine  is 
best,  depends  on  the  relation  of  the  stand-point  to  the  ob 
ject.  We  should  never  forget,  that  unless  we  change  our 
position  several  times,  we  cannot  look  upon  all  sides  of  a 
question.  Where  momentous  results  hang  upon  our  right 
decision  of  such  a  question,  we  should  determine  with 
great  caution,  and  only  after  many  changes  of  our  stand 
point.  I  pray  you,  dear  friend,  to  have  deliberation. 
Take  counsel  of  doubt,  rather  than  of  partially  enlight 
ened  reason." 

"  What  would  you  have  me  do,  Jessie  ?  Go  back  and 
ask  my  husband's  pardon  ?  " 

"  No.  A  word  on  this  unhappy  incident  in  your  lives 
need  not  pass  between  you.  You  can  return  and  be  si 
lent.  The  dangerous  impediment,  that  now  stands  like  a 
mountain  crag  between  you,  is  pride.  He  will  not  con 
cede  anything  —  nor  will  you.  Without  doubt,  he  has 


128  OUT  rsr  THE  WORLD. 

repented  sorely  of  his  part  in  the  strife ;  but  pride,  rest 
ing  on  his  narrow  views  of  marriage,  will  not  let  him  ac 
knowledge  his  error.  If  you  quietly  return,  your  pres 
ence  in  the  old  places  will,  I  am  sure,  make  his  heart  leap 
with  joy.  He  may  hide  this  pleasure  ;  doubtless  will. 
But,  in  the  future,  he  will  be  very  careful  how  he  pushes 
you  to  another  extremity.  All  may  yet  be  saved,  dear 
Madeline !  Oh,  let  me  be  your  counsellor  in  this  thing. 
Good  will  come  of  it,  I  know.  A  step  or  two  farther  in 
the  way  you  are  advancing,  and  all  may  be  lost !  A  few 
steps  retraced,  and  a  whole  life  of  peace  may  be  secured. 
Go  back  —  go  back  dear  Madeline!  Anything  less  than 
this  will  be  fatal  to  your  happiness." 

"It  has  ceased  to  be  a  question  of  happiness,"  replied 
Madeline,  her  voice  falling  into  a  mournful  undertone. 
"  That  is  past.  The  question  now  is,  Freedom  or  Slavery  ? 
I  must  decide  for  myself  which  Avill  be  most  endurable. 
And  I  have  made  the  decision.  If  my  husband  writes  to 
me,  and  says,  simply,  '  Come  back,'  I  will  accept,  it  gladly, 
as  an  evidence,  that  I  am  to  live  with  him  as  an  equal. 
If  he  does  not  so  ask  my  return  —  will  not  concede  any 
thing —  then  the  die  is  cast.  We  stand  forever  apart." 

"I  had  hoped,  dear  friend,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence,  with  a 
sadness  of  tone  she  made  no  effort  to  conceal,  "  that  bet 
ter  thoughts  would  have  ruled  in  your  mind.  That  you 
would  have  seen  the  duty  of  yielding  something.  Of  go 
ing  back  a  few  steps  in  the  wrong  way  so  hastily  taken." 

"Not  hastily,  Jessie,"  answered  Madeline.  "Not  in 
anger.  For  months  I  have  looked  to  the  issue  that  has 
come.  I  saw  it  approaching,  and  weighed  and  measured 
the  consequences  involved,  until  I  understood  their  mag 
nitude.  They  are  coming  upon  me,  and  I  accept  them  as 


OUT  IN   THE   WOULD.  129 

lesser  evils.  I  bow  my  head  and  stoop  my  shoulders  to 
the  new  burdens  I  am  destined  to  bear.  They  will  be 
lighter  for  my  spirit  than  have  been  those  I  cast  aside. 
As  our  day  may  demand,  so  shall  our  strength  be.  I  have 
faith  in  my  power  of  endurance.  I  shall  be  equal  to  the 
destiny  that  awaits  me.  In  suffering,  the  heart  grows 
strong.  Heroism  is  born  of  trial  and  pain."  ' 

"  It  is  not  heroism  that  you  want,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence, 
in  reply  —  "I  speak  plainly  as  your  trae  friend  —  but  self- 
denial.  Pride  has  risen  in  your  heart,  and  made  you 
blind  to  duty.  You  are  thinking  more  of  freedom,  as  you 
call  it,  than  of  a  useful  life.  Of  what  is  due  to  yourself 
more  than  of  what  is  due  to  others.  You  say  that  you 
love  your  husband ;  now,  love  forgets  itself  in  desire  to 
bless  its  object.  It  does  not  tend  to  separation,  but  con 
junction.  It  will  forgive  much ;  it  will  endure  much ;  it 
will  suffer  much.  .None  are  perfect  here.  The  heir-loom 
in  every  life  is  error  and  evil.  It  is  mine,  it  is  yours,  it  is 
your  husband's.  We  must  look  for  inharmonious  action 
in  the  contact  of  two  lives  —  especially  when  the  contact 
is  so  close  as  that  between  married  partners.  It  is  the  off 
spring  of  our  inherited  defects.  The  worst  remedy  for 
this  is  antagonism,  no  matter  from  which  side  it  may 
come.  It  is,  in  fact,  no  remedy  at  all ;  but  a  means  of  in 
creasing  the  evil.  If  your  husband  has  false  views  of 
marriage,  love  will  enlighten  him  sooner  than  anger.  If 
he  vainly  imagines  that  he  is  superior,  let  him  discover 
how  far  above  all  self-assertion  and  pride  of  position,  are 
self-control,  and  the  patient  endurance  of  a  temporary  in 
vasion  of  rights  for  the  sake  of  an  ultimate  and  higher 
good." 

But  Madeline  shook  her  head  in  strong  rejection  of  all 
6* 


130  OUT   IN    THE    WOULD. 

this.  It  was  in  complete  opposition  to  her  state  of  feel 
ing;  and  with  her,  feeling  for  the  most  part  held  reason 
in  control. 

"  Men,"  she  answered,  "  are  in  the  love  of  ruling  over 
the  weak.  They  domineer  and  exact  whenever  in  liberty 
to  do  so.  To  yield  to  them  is  to  strengthen  them.  Sub 
mit  to  one  set  of  manacles,  and  they  immediately  go  to 
work  to  forge  new  ones,  until  the  poor  slave  is  bound  in 
every  limb  and  entirely  helpless.  If  there  be  not  resolute 
opposition,  everything  is  lost." 

It  was  all  in  vain.  Mrs.  Lawrence  could  not  influence 
her  mistaken  friend ;  who,  in  every  argument  strengthened 
herself  in  the  position  she  had  assumed.  At  last,  with  a 
troubled  feeling,  she  gave  up  all  attempts  to  influence  her. 
Naturally  came  next  the  question  as  to  Mrs.  Jansen's  future 
life. 

"  If  your  husband  does  not  say  '  Come  back,'  what  then, 
Madeline  ?  "  was  asked. 

Mrs.  Lawrence  saw,  by  the  falling  of  light  out  of  Mad 
eline's  countenance,  that  this  question  touched  her  close 
ly.  A  sigh,  half  checked,  betrayed  the  concern  it  awaken 
ed.  She  did  not  answer. 

"  If  your  husband  does  not,  of  his  own  free  will,  make 
a  settlement  on  yon,  I  scarcely  think  the  courts  will  com 
pel  him  to  do  so.  Sufficient  legal  cause  for  a  separation 
could  hardly  be  shown." 

There  was  a  flashing  of  Madeline's  beautiful  brown 
eyes. 

"  And  you  think  so  meanly  of  me  ! "  she  said,  half  an 
grily,  "  Jessie !  If  I  cannot  be  his  wife  and  equal,  I  will 
not  touch  his  money.  No  —  no.  I  am  not  of  the  sordid 
quality  you  seem  to  imagine.  I  trust,  that  a  high  princi 
ple  governs  me  in  all  that  I  am  doing." 


OUT   IN   THE   WOELD.  131 

X 

"  You  must  live." 

"  He  that  feedeth  the  young  lions  will  not  see  me  lack," 
was  bravely  answered.  "  The  world  is  wide.  I  shall  find 
my  place." 

"  What  are  your  immediate  purposes  ?  It  is  my  deep 
concern  for  you  that  prompts  this  question.  Where  are 
you  going?" 

Again  the  light  faded  out  of  Mrs.  Jansen's  countenance. 

"  The  heroic  is  all  well  enough,  Madeline ;  but  nature 
lias  vulgar  needs  that  will  not  brook  delay.  You  must 
eat  and  drink —  you  must  have  clothing,  and  a  home.  If 
you  cast  yourself  loose  from  the  strong  arm  that  makes 
provision  and  gives  protection,  you  must  look  to  yourself." 

"  I  know  all  that.    I  have  counted  the  cost,  Jessie." 

"  Not  all  the  cost,  I  fear.  In  the  very  first  step  you 
found  pains  and  penalties  not  dreamed  of." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  "  asked  Madeline,  in  a  tone  of 
surprise.  She  had  not  spoken  of  her  experience  with 
Mrs.  Windall. 

"  My  husband  saw  you  in  the  street  yesterday.  It  was 
late.  Your  appearance  was  so  singular,  that  it  attracted 
attention." 

"  My  appearance  !  What  was  singular  about  it  ?"  asked 
Madeline,  with  a  crimsoning  face. 

"Just  how  you  looked,  he  did  not  say.  But  the  im 
pression  made  on  him  was  strong.  You  were  driving 
along,  he  said,  like  a  crazy  person.  I  was  filled  with  pain 
ful  anxiety  on  your  account.  If  the  first  steps  in  this  new 
way  you  have  chosen,  are  so  environed  with  difficulties, 
you  may  well  tremble  at  what  lies  farther  in  advance. 
Where  are  you  going  ?  I  ask  that  question  again,  for  that 
is  first  to  be  considered.  You  left  your  husband's  house 


132  OUT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

yesterday  morning,  and  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening 
came  here  seeking  shelter  for  the  night.  Don't  be  offend 
ed.  I  am  coming  down  to  the  naked  truth  —  calling 
things  by  their  true  names.  It  is  best  sometimes,  and 
leaves  no  room  for  error.  You  know  what  befel  during 
the  unhappy  intervening  hours.  I  fear  that  you  had 
much  pain,  much  disappointment,  much  humiliation 
crowded  into  them.  If  it  had  not  been  so,  you  would 
scarcely  have  crossed  the  river,  alone,  at  a  late  hour,  and 
come  to  me.  Oh,  Madeline  !  By  the  memory  of  this  first 
day's  painful  experience  stop  where  you  are.  This  is  on 
ly  the  beginning  of  sorrows." 

Madeline's  lips  quivered.  Her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
Her  friend's  reference  to  that  one  day's  trials  restored  the 
memory  of  some  things  that  gave  pangs  like  dagger 
thrusts.  Ah  yes !  There  had  been  disappointments  and 
humiliations  that  touched  her  to  the  very  quick.  Life  had 
suddenly  put  on  new  aspects,  fearful  ,to  contemplate. 

"  Dear  friend ! "  she  said  weeping,  "  let  me  ask  of  you 
one  favor.  It  shall  not  be  very  burdensome.  I  am  in 
great  extremity.  One  door  is  shut  behind  me,  and  an 
other  has  not  yet  opened.  Let  me  stay  with  you  just  one 
week.  After  that,  I  will  go  my  way." 

How  eagerly  would  Mrs.  Lawrence  have  given  her  con 
sent,  if  she  alone  were  to  be  considered.  Mrs.  Jansen 
saw  the  shade  that  crept  into  her  eyes,  and  noted  the  hes 
itation  that  lingered  over  the  sentence  that  was  to  consti 
tute  her  friend's  reply. 

"  O  Madeline !  Madeline  ! "  So  came  the  answer.  "  If 
you  could  look  into  my  heart  —  if  you  could  see  how  it 
yearns  over  you  —  if  you  could  know  all  my  love,  all  my 
present  anxiety  on  your  account !  Dear  friend !  Let  me 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  133 

again  entreat  you  to  go  home.  There  is  a  mist  before 
your  eyes  —  you  do  not  see  clearly ;  you  have  lost  your 
way,  and  every  step  in  advance  will  carry  you  in  the 
wrong  direction.  Get  back,  and  quickly  into  the  old,  safe 
regions,  where  you  know  the  landmarks;  where  your 
strong  tower  stands  —  where  your  walled  gardens  are  safe 
from  intruders ;  where  enemies  cannot  find  you." 

Mrs.  Lawrence  was  affectionate  in  her  manner  —  she 
spoke  with  loving  ardor.  But,  she  had  not  answered  the 
plain  request  of  Madeline  —  "Let  me  stay  just  one  week." 

The  tears  dried  up  in  the  eyes  of  Madeline.  Her  face 
grew  pale.  With  a  thick  huskiness  of  voice,  she  said  — 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  interest,  Jessie,  and  for  your  well 
meant  advice.  But,  it  is  useless  to  argue  with,  or  per 
suade  me.  It  is  not  with  the  past  that  I  am  struggling. 
The  leaf  that  I  have  turned  my  hand  shall  not  put  back 
again.  It  is  with  the  present  and  the  future  that  I  have 
now  to  deal." 

She  said  no  more.  How  was  Mrs.  Lawrence  to  reply  ? 
-If  she  alone  were  interested,  door  as  well  as  heart  would 
open  to  her  friend.  But,  to  grant  the  request  of  Mad 
eline  would  give  cause  of  anger  to  her  husband.  And  she 
knew  him  well  enough  to  be  certain,  that  his  treatment 
of  Mrs.  Jansen,  under  the  circumstances,  would  involve 
so  much  that  was  offensive,  that  she  would  not  endure  it 
for  a  single  day. 

"  If  I  alone  were  concerned,"  she  said,  "  the  case  would 
be  different."  Then  paused. 

"  Say  no  more,"  quickly  answered  Madeline,  the  fire 
coming  back  to  eyes  that  were  dull  an  instant  before.  "  It 
is  the  old  inadequacy  —  the  will  behind  your  will.  Ah 
well !  Don't  look  sad  about  it,  Jessie.  I  understand  it 
all." 


134  OUT   IN   THE   WOELD. 

Something  in  the  manner  of  Mrs.  Jansen,  touched  a 
sensitive  place  in  the  feelings  of  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  Pardon  me,"  she  answered,  assuming  an  air  of  dignity; 
"but  you  are  treading  on  forbidden  ground.  Whatever 
is  personal  to  myself,  must  be  held  sacred  by  my  friends." 

This  rebuke  partially  offended  Mrs.  Jansen.  She  made 
a  cold  apology,  and  in  words  not  well  chosen.  It  was  not 
her  habit  to  think  twice  on  a  sentence  before  giving  it  to 
speech. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Mrs.  Lawrence,  soon  losing  all  un 
pleasant  feeling  towards  Madeline,  sought  to  come  near 
her.  By  tacit  consent,  the  thoughts  just  in  their  minds, 
were  left  unspoken  —  so  there  was  no  point  of  free  inter 
course  —  and  so,  they  stood  apart.  Mrs.  Lawrence,  know 
ing  her  husband's  state  of  feeling,  did  not  think  it  right 
to  ask  Madeline  to  stay  for  the  period  mentioned. 

"  You  are  not  going,"  she  said  to  her,  as  she  came  down, 
about  midday,  with  her  bonnet  on. 

"  Yes.  If  Carl  replies  to  my  letter,  I  must  get  his  an 
swer." 

"  You  will  return,  if  the  answer  fails,  or  is  unsatisfacto 
ry,  and  spend  at  least  one  more  night  with  me." 

"  No,  Jessie ;  it  would  not  be  agreeable  to  your  hus 
band,  and  might  disturb  pleasant  relations." 

This  was  unkindly  said  —  nay,  worse,  in  a  tone  meant 
to  wound.  It  was  a  thrust. 

But,  Mrs.  Lawrence  did  not  feel  the  slightest  pain. 
Her  heart  was  too  full  of  pity  for  her  friend  —  too  heavily 
burdened  with  anxiety  on  her  account.  She  kissed  her  at 
the  door,  saying  — 

"  If  it  does  not  go  well  with  you  to-day,  Madeline,  come 
back  in  the  evening.  You  know  my  heart.  May  God 


OUT   IN   THE    WORLD.  135 

teach  you  the  right  lesson  of  duty,  and  lead  your  feet  in 
the  right  paths.  Oh,  Madeline !  Ask  Him  to  enlighten 
your  eyes,  and  show  you  the  way.  Look  to  Him,  and  not 
to  yourself." 

Their  hands  were  clasped  for  a  moment,  in  a  tight  pres 
sure —  tightest  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Lawrence  —  and  then, 
not  looking  back,  Madeline  went  out  blindly  and  desper 
ately,  to  go  she  knew  not  whither. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


S  that  woman  here  ?  "  It  was  the  ques 
tion  of  Mr.  Lawrence  as  he  came  in  at 
evening. 

"No,"  was  the   simple  answer  of  his 
wife. 

«  Thank  fortune  for  that ! " 
"  She    may   come   back   and    stay   all 
night,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"You  asked  her  to  do  so,  of  course!" 
"Yes  ;  but  the  chances  are  against  her 
returning.     I  scarcely  think  we  shall  see  her." 

"  The  affair  is  town-talk  already,"  remarked  Mr.  Law 
rence. 

"What?" 

"  Mrs.  Jansen's  quarrel  with,  and  abandonment  of  her 
husband.     I  heard  it  in  half  a  dozen  places." 

"  What  was  said  ?    What  cause  was  assigned  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  Oh,  forty  reasons  were  given." 

"Of  which  thirty-nine  were  sheer  fabrications,"  said 
Mrs.  Lawrence. 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  137 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  that.  The  most  plausible* 
to  my  mind,  was  this :  —  That  Mr.  Jansen  had  positively 
forbidden  any  further  association  with  certain  men  and 
women  of  doubtful  reputation  ;  and  that  her  ladyship  had 
gone  off  in  a  huff,  expecting  him  to  repent,  humble  himself, 
and  entreat  of  her  to  return  and  do  just  as  she  pleased. 
But,  it  is  pretty  generally  held  by  those  who  know  Jansen, 
that  she  Avill  find  it  harder  to  get  back  than  she  imagined ; 
and  that  'the  only  door  will  be  through  a  humiliation  of 
herself,  a  confession  of  wrong,  and  a  promise  to  do  better. 
Jansen  doesn't  say  much  —  don't  throw  his  arms  about, 
bluster,  and  talk  large ;  but  he  is  steady  to  any  purpose  as 
a  steel  spring.  There  was  too  much  at  stake  when  my 
lady  hazarded  that  throw  of  the  dice ! " 

"  What  other  reasons  were  given  ? "  asked  Mrs. Lawrence. 

"  Oh,  I  can't  remember  a  third  of  them.  One  was,  that 
she  wished  to  make  a  trip  to  Europe  in  company  with  a 
gentleman  and  his  wife,  not  on  the  best  terms  with  each 
other,  who  will  go  in  the  next  steamer.  Jansen  demurred, 
and  thence  came  a  fierce  quarrel.  Another,  that  she  wanted 
him  to  buy  a  house  in  Fifth  Avenue,  to  which  he  positively 
objected.  Another  report  connects  her  name  with  that  of 
Mr.  Guyton.  It  is  said,  that  they  are  often  seen  on  the 
street,  and  arc  altogether  too  intimate.  The  fact  is,  Jessie, 
that  woman  must  have  been  very  imprudent ;  if  not,  why 
so  many  stories  about  her  ?  I  trust  she  will  not  show  her 
face  here  again!  I  don't  want  your  name  mentioned  in  the 
same  breath  with  hers." 

Mrs.  Lawrence  did  not  reply.  Her  thought  was  fol 
lowing,  yearningly,  after  Madeline,  and  questioning  as  to 
her  future,  over  which  hung  a  dark  and  threatning  cloud. 
The  evening  passed,  but  Madeline  returned  not  to  the 


138  OUT   I3ST   THE    WORLD. 

house  of  her  friend.  Two  or  three  times  during  the  eve 
ning,  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lawrence  sat,  the  one  reading  to  him 
self,  and  the  other  sewing  —  the  former,  letting  his  book 
drop  from  his  eyes,  indulged  in  hard  sentences  against 
Mrs.  Jansen,  to  which  his  wife  made  no  other  response 
than  simply  to  look  at  him  in  her  grave,  quiet  way,  with 
as  much  reproof  in  her  glances  as  she  felt  might  be  given 
without  irritation. 

All  the  next  day  passed  without  word  of  her  unhappy 
friend  reaching  Mrs.  Lawrence.  When  her  husband  came 
home  in  the  evening,  he  brought  no  news  of  her.  He 
had  met  Mr.  Jansen  on  the  street  twice,  each  time  receiv 
ing  a  polite,  but  rather  stiff  bow.  There  was  nothing  un 
usual  in  his  manner  —  nothing  from  which  he  could  infer 
the  continued  absence  of  his  wife. 

"  It's  my  opinion,"  said  Mr.  Lawrence,  "  that  one  day's 
experience  has  been  enough  for  our  high-strung  friend,  and 
that  she  is  safely  at  home  again.  It's  all  very  fine  for  the 
bird  to  escape  from  its  cage,  and  strike  free  wings  upon 
the  sunny  air.  But,  in  night  and  storm,  in  cold  and  hun 
ger,  in  presence  of  the  hawk,  how  gladly  would  it  get  back 
into  its  prison  again." 

"  I  pray  that  you  may  be  right  in  your  opinion,  and  that 
Madeline  is  with  her  husband,"  remarked  Mrs.  Lawrence, 
but  not  in  a  tone  that  expressed  confidence. 

Days  passed,  and  still  no  certain  intelligence  about  Mad 
eline  was  received.  To  end  this  suspense,  Mrs.  Lawrence 
called  at  Mr.  Jansen's  house,  and  asked  for  her,  as  if  she 
believed  her  to  be  at  home. 

"  She's  not  here,  ma'am,"  replied  the  servant,  who  had 
opened  the  door.  Mrs.  Lawrence  stepped  into  the  vesti 
bule,  in  order  to  question  the  servant,  and  get  from  her  all 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  139 

H 

about  her  friend  that  she  might  be  induced  to  communi 
cate. 

"  When  do  you  expect  her  to  return  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  don't  know  ma'am," 

A  chill  of  disappointment  ran  along  the  nerves  of  Mrs. 
Lawrence. 

"  Has  she  been  back  since  she  went  away  last  week  ?  " 

«  No,  ma'am." 

"  Have  you  heard  from  her  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am." 

The  servant  answered  these  questions  with  evident  re 
luctance.  Mrs.  Lawrence  had  closed  the  street  door. 

"  Can't  I  sit  down  and  rest  for  a  few  minutes  ?  "  she  said. 
"  I  have  come  over  from  Brooklyn,  and  feel  very  tired." 

"  Oh,  certainly  ma'am,"  answered  the  servant,  showing 
her  into  the  parlor.  She  sat  down,  and  the  servant  stood 
near. 

"  You  can't  tell  me  any  thing  about  Mrs.  Jansen  ?  "  said 
Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  No,  ma'am."  Still  with  a  reserve  that  was  almost  em 
barrassing. 

"I  am  not  asking  you  these  questions  from  simple  cu 
riosity.  I  am  an  old  friend,  and  a  warm  friend  of  Mrs. 
Jansen ;  and  I  want  to  know  something  certain  about  her. 
She  was  at  my  house  on  Wednesday  and  staid  all  night." 

"  At  your  house  ! "  a  flash  of  interest  swept  across  tho 
servant's  face. 

"  Yes,  she  came  to  my  house  in  the  evening,  long  after 
it  was  dark,  and  staid  all  night.  In  the  morning  she  went 
away." 

"  Did  she  say  where  she  was  going,  ma'am  ?  " 

"No." 


140  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

The  troubled  look,  which  Mrs.  Lawrence  had  noticed 
from  the  first,  deepened. 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I  knew  where  she  was ! "  exclaimed  the  ser 
vant,  breaking  out  of  her  reserve,  and  wringing  her  hands 
together. 

"  Doesn't  Mr.  Jansen  know  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  I'm  afraid  not.     If  he  does,  he  wont  tell  us  anything." 

"  You  have  asked  him  ?  " 

*'  Oh,  yes.  I  ask  him  every  time  he  comes  home ;  but, 
he  answers  me  short.  He  don't  like  us  to  question  him, 
ma'am." 

"  He's  very  much  troubled  ?  " 

"  Yes  ma'am ;  of  course  he's  troubled.  But,  he  don't 
show  it  as  some  men  would." 

Mrs.  Lawrence  did  not  feel  that  it  would  be  honorable 
to  press  the  servant  any  farther,  though  a  crowd  of  ques 
tions  were  in  her  thoughts.  The  main  facts  were  learned 
—  that  Mrs.  Jansen  had  not  returned  home,  and  that  the 
servants  at  least,  were  in  ignorance  as  to  where  she  had 
gone.  She  went  away,  feeling  sadder  than  when  she 
called. 

Weeks  passed,  and  still  no  word  came  to  Mrs.  Lawrence 
about  her  friend.  She  enquired  of  her  husband,  every  day, 
if  he  had  learned  anything  about  her,  but  the  answer  was 
always  the  same.  Madeline  had  dropped  out  of  sight, 
like  a  foundering  vessel,  and  there  remained  no  sign  upon 
the  surface  to  say  where  she  had  gone  down. 

The  weeks  gathered  into  months,  and  yet  the  mystery 
that  hung  over  Mrs.  Jansen  was  not  solved.  Her  husband 
remained  as  ignorant  in  regard  to  her  as  the  small  circle 
of  interested  friends,  who,  like  Mrs.  Lawrence,  kept  her  in 
troubled  remembrance.  He  need  not  have  remained  in 


OUT   IN    THE   WOELD.  141 

such  ignorance.  Had  lie  bent  just  a  little  from  his  cold, 
proud  impassiveness — just  far  enough  to  have  placed, 
through  proper  agencies,  a  follower  on  her  path  —  he 
might  have  kept  himself  advised  as  to  all  her  movements. 
But,  this  would  have  been  felt  as  yielding  or  conceding 
something.  The  fact  might,  in  some  way,  come  to  her 
knowledge,  and  be  wrongly  construed.  She  had  gone  of 
her  own  will ;  and  when  she  came  back,  she  must  come 
of  her  own  will.  That  was  the  position  he  had  assumed 
and  which  he  resolved  to  maintain.  Suffer  what  he  might, 
he  would  yield  nothing.  That  would  be  to  lower  the  dig 
nity  of  his  manhood. 

This  much  must  be  said  for  Carl  Jansen,  he  suffered  in 
tensely.  He  had  loved  his  Avife  deeply  —  still  loved  her. 
For  the  words  spoken  so  imperatively  on  that  fatal  morn 
ing,  he  had  repented  many  times  —  and  many  times  wish 
ed  they  had  never  been  uttered.  But,  once  said,  they 
might  not  be  recalled  without  humiliation  such  as  pride 
would  never  brook.  How  many  times  had  he  come  home, 
during  the  first  few  weeks  of  separation,  fondly  hoping  to 
find  his  wife  in  her  old  place.  He  would  not  have  welcom 
ed  her  with  any  show  of  gladness.  She  would  not  have 
knoAvn  of  the  sunlight  and  warmth  that  swept  into  his 
heart.  But  he  would  have  been  kind  'and  gentle  —  per 
haps  tender.  He  would  have  been  more  guarded  in  the 
future,  and  less  inclined  to  put  hindrances  in  her  way. 
Her  liberty  would  have  been  larger.  Alas  for  her !  —  alas 
for  him !  —  that  she  did  not  return. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ET  us  follow  the  proud,  sensitive  young 
creature  who  dropped  so  suddenly  be 
neath  the  surface  of  society,  and  see 
how  it  has  fared  with  her.  On  leaving 
the  house  of  Mrs.  Lawrence,  Madeline 
crossed  the  river,  and  went  to  Mrs. 
Woodbine's.  Her  reception  was  not 
with  the  old  cordiality.  The  false  friend 
who  had  first  led  her  mind  astray,  could 
not  forgive  the  independent  action  that 
went  adverse  to  her  judgment.  While 
claiming  for  herself  the  largest  liberty  she  chose  to  as 
sume,  she  was  always  impatient  of  freedom  in  others  when 
it  touched  her  will,  be  it  ever  so  lightly. 

"Have  you  a  letter  for  me  ?  "  asked  Madeline.  She  was 
not  able  to  conceal  the  suspense  that  was  in  her  mind. 

"  No."  How  like  a  verdict  of  "  guilty,"  to  a  waiting 
prisoner,  fell  the  word  upon  her  ears !  The  brave  heart 
drooped.  The  courage  failed. 

"You  expected  a  letter?"  said  Mrs.  Woodbine,  who 
noticed  the  disappointment  her  answer  had  produced. 


OUT   IN   THE   WOELD.  143 

"  I  thought  there  might  be  one,"  returned  Mrs.  Jansen, 
rallying  herself. 

"  You  did  not  take  my  advice,"  remarked  Mrs.  Wood 
bine,  with  a  distant  air. 

"  No.    I  could  not." 

"  You  are  wrong  my  young  friend  ;  wrong !  "  Mrs, 
Woodbine  spoke  with  emphasis.  "And  you  will  see  ix,. 
one  of  these  days.  I  never  dreamed  of  your  carrying 
things,  on  so  trifling  a  provocation,  to  this  extremity. 
Pray,  be  advised  by  one  who  has  seen  a  great  deal  more 
of  the  world  than  you  have.  Return  to  your  husband — " 

"Never ! "  exclaimed  Madeline,  interrupting  Mrs.  Wood 
bine.  "  Never,  unless  he  says  '  Come  back.' " 

"  Which  he  may  never  say !  " 

The  color  receded  from  Madeline's  face ;  but  her  eyes 
grew  hard,  and  her  lips  rigid. 

"  So  be  it,"  she  answered,  huskily.  "  I  have  counted 
the  cost." 

Mrs.  Woodbine  drew  herself  up  coldly,  but  made  no  re 
ply.  Madeline  sat  for  a  short  time,  and  then  arose,  with 
an  embarrassed  air. 

"You're  not  going,"  said  Mrs.  Woodbine,  in  such  an 
unsympathizing  voice  that  it  was  as  if  she  had  said,  "  go, 
and  go  quickly !  " 

"  Yes." 

They  stood  facing  each  other  for  a  few  moments. 

"  Good  morning."     Madeline  did  not  extend  a  hand. 

"  Why  are  you  in  such  a  hurry  ?  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Woodbine.  The  interest  was  only  a  pretence, 
and  Madeline  was  not  deceived. 

"  Good  morning."     She  repeated  the  words. 

c  Good  morning.    When  shall  I  sec  you  again  ?  " 


144  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"  I  will  call  to-morrow,  or  the  next  day,  to  see  if  there 
is  anything  for  me." 

"  Do,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you.  Oh,  by  the  way,  Mrs. 
Windall  was  here  last  evening." 

Madeline  could  not  help  a  start.  Mrs.  Woodbine's  eyes 
were  upon  her,  reading  the  expression  of  her  countenance. 

"  Was  she  ?  "    Mrs.  Jansen  tried  to  seem  indifferent. 

"  Yes,  and  she  was  very  anxious  about  you.  It  seems 
from  what  she  intimated,  that  you  gave  her  the  slip.  I 
was  glad  to  hear  it !  Take  my  advice,  and  keep  out  of 
her  way.  She  is  a  dangerous  woman,  and  may  lead 
you  into  harm." 

"  Dangerous  in  what  respect  ?  "  asked  Madeline. 

"Oh,  as  to  that,  I  can't  speak  definitely.  I've  never 
thought  her  a  person  of  well  based  principles." 

"  Do  you  know  any  wrong  of  Mrs.  Windall  ?  " 

"Well,  no,  I  can't  say  that  I  do ;  but  people  are  in  the 
habit  of  speaking  lightly  of  her.  Situated  as  you  arc, 
Mrs.  Jansen,  carefulness  in  regard  to  those  with  whom 
you  associate  is  a  thing  of  the  first  moment.  We  are 
judged  by  the  company  we  keep.  Your  life  may  be  as 
pure  as  that  of  an  angel ;  yet  the  breath  of  slander  will 
be  on  your  name.  You  cannot  escape,  in  the  way  you 
are  now  walking,  no  matter  with  what  circumspection  you 
move.  The  most  innocent  act  may  be  tortured  into 
crime." 

"  How  long  have  you  known  Mrs.  Windall  ? "  asked 
Madeline. 

"Not  over  six  months." 

"  Who,  or  what,  is  she  ?  " 

"  That  question,  I  find  it  difficult  to  answer.  The  fact  is, 
I  know  little,  if  anything  about  her;  except  that  she  has 


OUT  IN   THE   WORLD.  145 

no  sensibility,  and  intrudes  herself  whenever  she  can  find 
opportunity,  whether  she  be  welcome  or  not.  Her  pres 
ence  has  always  been  disagreeable  to  me.  If  you  asked 
me  why,  I  might  not  be  able  to  give  a  satisfactory  rea 
son  ;  but  such  is  the  case.  I  repeat  the  advice,  keep  away 
from  her ;  and  if  she  seeks  you  out,  and  tries  to  fasten 
herself  upon  you,  push  her  off." 

"You  cannot  dislike  her  more  than  I  do." 

The  door  bell  rung,  and  a  servant  passed  down  the 
hall. 

"  If  that  should  be  her !  "  said  Mrs.  Jansen,  with  a  look 
of  real  apprehension. 

"Most  likely  it  is,"  returned  Mrs.  Woodbine.  "  I  saw 
yesterday,  that  she  was  determined  to  find  you.  She 
knew  that  any  letter  you  might  receive  would  be  directed 
to  my  care,  and  asked  if  one  had  come." 

"  I  cannot  meet  her !  Oh,  Mrs.  Woodbine,  let  me  hide 
away  somewhere ! "  Madeline  trembled  like  one  in  af 
fright. 

"  Pass  into  the  back  parlor,  and  stand  near  the  door," 
replied  Mrs.  Woodbine.  "You  will  know  her  voice.  It 
it  is  Mrs.  Windall,  slip  out  into  the  hall  and  go  up  stairs. 
I  will  not  let  her  know  that  you  are  here." 

Madeline  had  scarcely  left  the  room  before  Mrs.  Win 
dall  entered. 

"  Good  morning  !  "  she  said,  fixing  her  large  weird  eyes 
on  the  face  of  Mrs.  Woodbine. 

"  Good  morning,"  was  returned  with  a  smile  not  over 
warm,  yet  sufficiently  cordial  to  put  a  woman  like  Mrs. 
Windall  at  her  ease. 

"  Have  you  seen  our  young  friend  ?  "    That  was  the 

7 


146  OUT   IN   THE    WORLD. 

uppermost  thing  in  her  mind,  and  she  could  not  hold  it 
back. 

"  Yes." 

The  face  of  Mrs.  Windall  brightened. 

«  Wken  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  She  was  here  this  morning." 

"  Ah  !    Did  she  get  a  letter  ?  " 

"No." 

"  There's  hard  stuff  in  her  husband,"  said  Mrs.  Win 
dall. 

"  She  ought  to  have  known  him  well  enough  never  to 
have  risked  all  she  has  done." 

"  How  long  since  she  was  here  ?" 

"Not  a  great  while." 

"  Did  she  say  where  she  was  going  ?  " 

"  No." 

Mrs.  Windall,  who  had  taken  a  seat,  arose  almost  im 
mediately. 

"  How  long  since  she  left  ?  " 

"  She  was  here  not  ten  minutes  ago." 

"  Oh !  so  late  ?  How  unfortunate  that  I  did  not  arrive 
sooner !  And  you  have  no  idea  which  Avay  she  went  ?  " 

"  She  said  nothing  of  her  intentions.  I  did  not  ques 
tion  her. 

"  Poor,  unhappy  young  creature !  "  Mrs.  Windall  spoke 
with  feeling.  "  I  am  deeply  interested  in  her  case.  What 
will  she  do  ?  " 

"  The  best  thing  you,  or  any  friend  can  do  for  her,"  re 
plied  Mr?.  Woodbine,  "  is  to  persuade  her  to  go  back  to 
her  husband,  and  hold  her  own  where  she  has  rights  to 
maintain.  This  cutting  adrift  is  bad  —  always  bad.  But, 
you  know  my  opinion  on  the  subject." 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  147 

"And  you  know  mine,"  returned  Mrs.  Windall,  tossing 
her  head  in  a  kind  of  defiant  way.  "  Good  morning !  " 
she  added,  turning  off.  I  think  I  know  where  Mrs.  Jansen 
has  gone,  and  I  particularly  desire  to  see  her." 

Mrs.  Woodbine  made  no  effort  to  detain  the  little  wo 
man.  She  simply  responded  to  her  good  morning,  and 
they  separated.  As  Mrs.  Windall  passed  into  the  street, 
Madeline  came  down  stairs  into  the  hall. 

"  I  will  remain  for  a  quai'ter  of  an  hour  if  agreeable," 
she  said,  in  a  subdued  manner,  like  one  who  asks  a  favor. 

"  Stay  by  all  means,"  returned  Mrs.  Woodbine,  with  a 
cordiality  that  partially  atoned  for  her  previous  coldness. 
"  I  don't  want  you  to  meet  that  woman  again.  She  is  af 
ter  you  with  the  keen  scent  of  a  hound  ;  not  for  your  good, 
I  am  persuaded,  but  to  serve  some  end  of  her  own,  Mad 
eline.  Out  from  your  husband's  protection,  there  is  danger 
for  one  so  young,  so  inexperienced,  so  personally  attractive 
as  you  are !  Pardon  my  earnestness ;  but  I  am  deeply 
concerned  for  the  result  of  all  this." 

"  I  thank  you  for  this  interest,"  returned  Mrs.  Jansen. 
"  I  believe  it  to  be  sincere.  But  I  cannot  go  back,  as  I 
have  before  said,  and  live  in  strife  with  my  husband.  Any 
thing  but  that!  You  know  my  views  and  feelings.  I 
have  spoken  to  you  freely.  There  can  be  no  change.  If 
my  husband  says  *  Come  back,'  I  will  go  back.  If  he  keep 
silence,  the  separation  is  eternal !  " 

"  To  argue  the  case  farther,  is  useless,"  said  Mrs.  Wood 
bine. 

"  Useless  ! "  echoed  Madeline. 

Mrs.  Jansen  did  not  remain  longer  than  the  quarter  of 
an  hour  for  which  she  had  asked.  Their  intercourse  dur 
ing  the  time  was  marked  by  restraint  on  both  sides. 


148  OUT   IN   THE   WOULD. 

Then  she  went  away.  But  whither.  Ah,  how  much  does 
this  question  involve !  Moved  only  by  feeling,  and  throw 
ing  aside  all  prudential  considerations  as  something  below 
the  heroic  from  which  she  believed  herself  acting,  Made 
line  had  taken  no  care  to  fill  her  purse  — it  contained  only 
a  few  dollars  —  nor  to  provide  for  the  transfer  of  clothing. 
She  had  simply  dressed  herself  for  the  street,  and  so  gone 
out,  leaving  everything  behind.  Her  disappointment  in 
regard  to  Mrs.  Woodbine  had  alarmed  and  bewildered  her 
—  though  it  did  not  change  her  purpose.  In  fancy,  she 
had  pictured  herself  in  the  refuge  of  her  elegant  home, 
finding  a  world  of  sympathy  in  one  heart  at  least.  Coun 
sel  for  the  future  —  aid  as  it  might  be  needed  —  wisdom 
from  Mrs.  Woodbine's  large  experience  in  the  world,  had 
all. been  taken  for  granted.  Alas !  How  miserably  had 
these  expectations  failed  !  How,  almost  instantly,  in  her 
death-like  extremity,  had  this  friend  dropped  aAvay ! 
Where  next  was  she  to  turn  ?  The  first  day's  unhappy 
experience  has  shown  how  wildly  she  had  calculated  the 
future. 

On  leaving  the  house  of  Mrs.  Woodbine,  parting  coldly 
with  her  at  the  door,  Mrs.  Jansen  crossed  the  city  towards 
the  East  River.  There  lived  on  Eighth  street,  near  the 
Third  Avenue,  a  lady  whom  she  had  often  met  at  Mrs. 
Woodbine's.  Her  name  was  Mrs.  Cairne.  This  lady  had 
a  kind  and  gentle  way  with  her  that  had  always  pleased 
Madeline.  She  was  one  of  the  progressive  school  of  wo 
men,  but  not  so  radical  in  her  sentiments  as  were  many 
who  visited  at  Mrs.  Woodbine's.  Mrs.  Cairne  had,  once 
or  twice,  called  on  Mrs.  Jansen,  and  the  latter  promised  to 
return  her  visits,  but  had  not  yet  done  so.  From  some 
cause,  of  which  she  was  in  ignorance,  Mrs,  Cairne's  rccep- 


OUT   IK    THE    WORLD.  149 

tion  with  several  of  Mrs.  Woodbine's  visitors  was  not  of 
the  most  cordial  nature.  Madeline  had  noticed  this,  and 
wondered  as  to  its  meaning.  The  woman  was  gentle,  cul 
tivated,  and  of  lady-like  demeanor ;  and  yet  she  did  not 
seem  to  attract  her  own  sex  strongly.  But,  the  men  who 
happened  at  any  time  to  be  present  when  she  was  at  Mrs. 
Woodbine's,  were  generally  marked  in  their  attentions. 
It  had  not  escaped  the  observation  of  Madeline,  that  in 
conversation  with  men,  Mrs.  Cairne  was  always  more  ani 
mated  than  when  in  conversation  with  women.  At  such 
times,  her  face  would  light  up  with  feeling,  and  her  eyes 
dance  and  sparkle  in  a  way  that  made  her  really  fascina 
ting.  Something  which  then  appeared  in  the  expression 
of  her  face,  was  not  pleasant  to  Mrs.  Jansen.  What  its 
meaning  was,  she  could  not  say ;  but  it  impressed  her  un 
favorably. 

Of  all  her  friends  —  after  Mrs.Woodbine  and  Mrs.  Law 
rence —  on  whom  she  felt  inclined  to  call  in  this  painful 
episode  of  her  life,  Mrs.  Cairne  came  next.  A  dozen  were 
thought  of  and  passed  by.  Here  there  seemed  the  best 
chance  for  sympathy  and  temporary  refuge. 

As  Mrs.  Jansen  stood  at  Mrs.  Cairne's  door,  with  her 
hand  on  the  bell,  a  sudden  shadow  fell  upon  her  spirit, 
accompanied  by  an  inward  fear,  as  if  in  the  presence  of 
evil  and  hurtful  things.  A  strong  impulse  pressed  her 
back ;  she  let  her  grasp  unloose  itself  from  the  bell-handle, 
and  moving  away,  descended  to  the  street.  Five  minutes 
afterwards  she  returned,  walked  firmly  up  to  the  door,  and 
pulled  the  bell. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Jansen !  How  glad  I  am  to  see  you ! " 
Cordially,  and  with  an  air  of  sincerity  not  to  be  mistaken, 
this  welcome  to  the  already  heart-sick  and  almost  fainting 
wanderer  was  given. 


150  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"  I  have  heard  of  your  trouble,"  added  Mrs.  Cairne,  as 
she  led  Madeline  back  to  the  sofa  from  which  she  had 
arisen,  and  sitting  beside  her,  still  held  her  hand  tightly, 
looking  with  questioning  earnestness  into  her  face. 

Madeline  could  not  keep  back  the  tears  from  her  eyes. 
Here  was  genuine  sympathy,  for  which  her  heart  was  long 
ing.  Unable  to  control  herself,  she  laid  her  face  down  up 
on  Mrs.  Cairne,  and  sobbed. 

"  For  one  so  young  !  For  one  whose  sky  Avas  so  warm 
and  bright!  Oh,  it  is  hard  —  very  hard!"  said  Mrs. 
Cairne,  in  her  tender,  loving  way. 

The  whole  frame  of  Madeline  quivered  with  sobs ;  but, 
she  had  a  strong  will,  and  self-control,  and  quickly  regained 
her  lost  equipoise.  To  the  pressing  enquiries  of  Mrs. 
Cairne,  made  with  such  an  affectionate  interest,  she  open 
ed  all  her  heart  —  confided  in  her  as  completely  as  if  she 
had  been  a  beloved  sister,  older  and  wiser  than  herself. 
During  the  time,  Mrs.  Cairne  sat  with  one  arm  drawn 
around  Madeline,  and  a  hand  tightly  holding  one  of  her 
hands.  Madeline's  bonnet  and  shawl  she  had  already,  with 
kindly  officiousness,  removed. 

No  coldness,  no  shrinking  back,  or  reserve  on  the  part 
of  Mrs.  Cairne,  followed.  Instead,  she  drew  closer  to  Mad 
eline  with  a  kind  of  motherly  tenderness. 

"  I  have  a  place  for  you  both  in  my  heart  and  my  house," 
she  said.  "  Come  in  and  occupy  as  long  as  you  will.  I 
marvel  at  Mrs.  Woodbine  !  I  knew  she  was  a  selfish,  and 
a  worldly-wise  woman  in  some  things  :  but  I  saw,  also,  so 
many  good  points  in  her  character  that  I  gave  her  credit 
for  more  than  she  was  worth.  Trouble  proves  our  friends. 
In  blossomy  spring  and  summer,  and  in  the  fruitful  autumn 
of  our  lives,  they  gather  around  us  thickly ;  but,  the  ever- 


OUT   IN    THE    WOULD.  151 

greens  of  friendship  are  few.  You  are  passing  amid  your 
first  fiery  trials.  I  trust  you  have  a  strong  will,  a  brave 
heart,  and  power  of  endurance.  You  will  need  them  all." 

"  I  have  gone  out  alone,"  replied  Mrs.  Jansen,  finding 
strength  in  the  warm  sympathy  of  Mrs.  Cairne ;  "  and  if 
need  be,  I  shall  walk  alone,  straightforward  to  the  end.  I 
may  be  faint  and  weary  —  my  feet  may  bleed  —  I  may  be 
in  terror  of  the  evil  that  meets  me  on  the  way ;  but  there 
is  one  thing  certain  —  I  shall  not  turn  back." 

Up  to  this  time,  since  leaving  her  home,  Mrs.  Jansen 
had  been  in  a  state  of  strong  internal  excitement.  Noth 
ing  had  gone  tranquilly.  The  currents  of  feeling  had  been 
seething  amid  rocks,  or  dashing  down  rapids.  Now  they 
smoothed  themselves  out  into  a  calm  lake,  and  a  slumbrous 
quiet,  sweet  as  peace,  fell  gently  over  her  spirit.  Mrs. 
Cairne  gave  her  a  room,  neatly  furnished,  and  supplied  with 
books. 

"  Stay  as  long  as  you  will,"  she  said,  in  her  sweet,  win 
ning  way.  "  I  will  be  your  friend,  your  companion,  and 
your  counsellor." 

When  left  alone  in  her  room,  Mrs.  Jansen,  on  taking 
note  of  her  sensations,  perceived  a  heaviness  that  weighed 
down  her  limbs,  as  though  after  great  fatigue.  Accompa 
nying  this,  was  a  fullness  about  the  head,  and  a  dull,  deep, 
aching  of  the  brain  — not  severe,  yet  defining  itself  with 
steadily  increasing  throbs.  As  one  aweary,  she  threw  her 
self  on  the  bed,  and  was  soon  lost  in  a  heavy  sleep.  When 
she  awoke,  Mrs.  Cairne  was  sitting  by  her  side. 

"  Are  you  not  well,  dear  ?  "  was  asked,  with  evident  con 
cern  of  manner. 

An  attempt  to  rise  was  accompanied  by  strong  painful 
throbs  in  the  forehead,  and  a  sense  of  bewilderment.  Mad 
eline  sunk  back  on  the  pillow  with  a  low  moan. 


152  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"You  are  sick,  child  !"  said  Mrs.  Cairne,  who  saw  that 
her  face  was  flushed.  Touching  her  skin,  she  perceived 
that  it  was  hot  with  fever.  "  Do  you  often  have  spells  of 
sudden  illness  ?  " 

"No."  The  answer  was  dull,  as  if  Madeline  had  only 
partly  understood  the  question. 

"  You  are  sick,  Mrs.  Jansen."  Mrs.  Cairne  spoke  with 
an  earnestness  meant  to  rouse  her  guest. 

Madeline  opened  her  eyes,  and  looked  about  her  in  a 
disturbed  way. 

"I'm  afraid  I  am,"  she  answered. 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Cairne. 

"  Oh,  nothing  at  all.  It  will  pass  oft*.  I've  been  worried 
and  fatigued.  Rest  and  quiet  will  do  all  that  is  needed." 

"Your  head  aches,"  said  Mrs.  Cairne,  who  saw  deep 
lines  cutting  down  her  forehead. 

"Very  badly." 

"Shall  I  bathe  it?" 

"  If  you  please." 

But,  something  beyond  simple  bathing  of  the  hot  fore 
head  was  needed.  Before  night,  it  was  deemed  best,  by 
Mrs.  Cairne,  to  call  in  a  physician.  What  he  thought  of 
the  case,  Madeline  did  not  perceive.  She  was  too  sick  to 
take  much  note  of  what  passed  around  her. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

US.  Janscn  did  not  leave  her  bed  for 
several  days,  nor  her  room  for  over 
a  week.  Every  day,  the  physician 
who  had  been  called  in  by  Mrs. 
Cairne,  came  to  see  her.  He  was  a 
man  of  about  forty,  with  a  frank, 
cheerful  address,  and  an  air  of  fa 
miliarity  from  which  Mrs.  Jansen,  as 
fever  subsided,  and  her  mind  grew 
clear,  shrunk  with  instinctive  delica 
cy.  Something  in  the  touch  of  his 
hand,  moist  and  velvety,  as  he  laid  it  upon  hers,  sent  a 
faint  shiver  along  her  nerves ;  and  the  instant  his  fingers 
left  her  pulse,  she  would  draw  her  hand  away.  His  eyes, 
dark  and  with  a  mystery  in  them  that  she  could  not  read, 
hurt  her  as  she  felt  them  going  down  into  her  very  con 
sciousness.  She  could  not  bear  his  look,  and  turned  from 
him,  always,  with  an  uneasy  feeling,  as  if  there  were 
harm  in  his  very  glances. 

The  doctor  did  not  intermit  his  daily  calls,  even  after 

7* 


154  OUT   IN    THE    WOULD. 

Mrs.  Jansen  could  sit  up  in  her  room.  Mrs.  Caime  usually 
came  in  with  him,  but  almost  always  made  some  excuse 
to  leave  them  alone.  He  was  an  intelligent,  cheerful  talk 
er,  full  of  anecdote,  and,  as  we  have  intimated,  very  frank 
and  familiar.  But,  the  repulsion  felt  by  Mrs.  Jansen  in  the 
beginning,  did  not  wear  off;  and  she  invariably  declined 
to  let  him  take  her  hand,  at  the  close  of  his  visits,  though 
he  never  omitted  the  attempt. 

"It  is  unnecessary  to  call  again,  doctor,"  she  said  to  him 
one  day,  a  week  after  the  beginning  of  her  illness.  "  I  am 
quite  well  again." 

"  Not  so  well  as  you  think,"  he  answered,  smiling  in  his 
frank  way.  "  There  is  some  fever  in  your  system  yet." 
And  before  she  could  draw  back  her  hand,  he  had  taken 
it,  and  was  searching  for  the  artery  that  lay  along  the  fair 
wrist.  "  Too  quick  and  hard  yet,"  he  said.  u  You  are  not 
entirely  safe,  madam.  The  merest  trifle  may  throw  you 
off  from  this  returning  healthy  balance ;  and  you  know 
that  relapses  are  always  bad.  Don't  be  too  weary  of  the 
sick  room.  An  impatient  convalescence  is  never  a  sure 
one," 

He  had  risen  to  retire ;  but  sat  down  again,  and  taking 
out  his  pencil,  wrote  a  prescription.  Mrs.  Janscu  remained 
standing. 

"  Send  for  that,"  he  said,  handing  his  patient  the  slip  of 
paper  on  which  he  had  been  writing.  He  remained  seated, 
but  with  his  eyes  fixed  intently  on  Mrs.  Jansen's  face. 
Never  had  she  been  so  affected,  as  at  this  moment,  by  gaze 
from  human  eyes.  They  seemed  to  hold  her  spell-bound. 
She  felt  in  thrall.  Intense,  clear,  pulsating  in  light,  full  of 
eager  intelligence,  like  something  alive,  they  seemed  to 
draw,  hold,  consume.  A  vague,  weak  terror  seized  her. 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  155 

She  wished  to  fly,  but  had  no  conscious  power  of  motion. 
A  few  moments  elapsed,  the  doctor  not  once  removing 
his  gaze.  Then  rising  slowly,  his  eyes  not  wavering,  lie 
reached  forth  a  hand  to  take  one  of  hers.  The  touch  of 
that  hand  was  like  an  electric  spark,  firing  the  passive  will. 
Madeline  started,  and  sprang  back,  her  face  deadly  pale. 

"  Go,  sir ! "  she  said,  sternly  and  imperatively. 

lie  did  not  move.  The  eager,  hungry  light  went  out 
of  his  eyes ;  and  a  pleasant  smile  broke  softly  over  his 
countenance. 

"  Don't  be  excited,  my  dear  madam,"  he  said,  in  a  calm, 
persuasive  voice.  "  This  fever  still  lingers  in  your  system, 
and  presses  on  your  brain.  I  only  wished  to  examine 
your  pulse  before  retiring.  The  giving  of  offence  was  the 
last  thing  in  my  thought.  Good  day !  I  will  call  in  the 
morning  and  ask  if  the  medicine  has  done  its  right  work. 
You  need  not  see  me,  unless  you  desire  it.  Good  day." 

And  bowing  in  complete  self-possession,  and  with  undi- 
minished  blandness  of  manner,  the  doctor  retii'ed. 

Weak  and  trembling,  Mrs.  Jansen  sunk  into  a  chair. 
All  the  little  strength  she  had  gained  in  her  brief  con 
valescence,  seemed  to  have  departed.  "  Fever  still  lingers 
in  your  system,  and  presses  on  your  brain."  The  doctor 
had  said  this  so  earnestly,  and  looked,  as  he  spoke,  so  kind 
and  calm,  that  she  was  already  beginning  to  feel  a  doubt 
as  to  her  own  clear  perception  of  things.  Might  she  not 
have  altogether  mistaken  him  ? 

Mrs.  Cairne  did  not  come  to  her  room  for  nearly  half 
an  hour  after  the  doctor  retired.  Mrs.  Jansen  was  lying 
down,  but  arose  as  she  entered,  fixing  her  eyes  so  search- 
ingly  on  the  face  of  Mrs.  Cairne,  that  she  partly  turned  it 
aside,  as  if  she  feared  more  might  be  revealed  there  than 
she  wished  her  guest  to  know. 


156'  OUT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

K  The  doctor  says  that  fever  still  lurks  in  your  system, 
and  that  you  must  not  think  of  leaving  your  room." 

Mrs.  Jansen  did  not  reply  —  only  looked  more  keenly 
at  Mi's.  Cairne. 

"  I  have  known  Doctor  B for  several  years,  and 

have  great  confidence  in  him.  His  practice  lies  among 
the  best  families  in  New  York ;  and  he  is  much  esteemed 
everywhere,  not  only  as  a  skilful  physician,  but  as  a  true 
and  honorable  man.  It  would  be  imprudent  to  disregard 
his  injunction  in  anything." 

"  If  he  should  call  to-morrow,"  Mrs.  Jansen  replied,  in  a 
serious  tone, "  say  that  I  am  better,  and  do  not  wish  to  see 
him." 

The  expression  of  Mrs.  Cairne's  face  changed,  instantly. 
She  looked  both  surprised  and  concerned. 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  hope  you 
have  not  misunderstood  the  doctor  in  anything.  He's 
very  plain  and  outspoken,  sometimes.  In  what  has  ho 
offended  you  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  say  that  he  had  offended  me  in  anything  — 
only,  that  I  did  not  wish  to  see  him.  I  am  better,  and  do 
not  need  his  further  attentions." 

"  You  have  fever."  Mrs.  Cairne  took  one  of  Mrs.  Jan- 
sen's  hands,  meaning  to  offer  its  unnatural  warmth  in  proof 
of  her  declaration.  But  she  found  it  cold  and  moist. 

"  Your  hand  is  hot  in  mine,"  returned  Madeline. 

The  two  women  looked  at  each  other  with  doubt  and 
questioning  in  their  eyes,  and  then  mutually  turned  their 
eyes  away,  as  if  each  had  something  in  her  thought  that 
she  wished  to  conceal. 

"  I  will  do  as  you  desire,  of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Cairne, 
but  not  with  her  usual  free  and  kindly  way.  "  I  am  so 


OUT   IN    THE    WOULD.  157 

warm  a  friend  of  Doctor  B ,"  she  added,  as  if  in 

apology  for  her  manner,  "  and  know  so  well  his  excellence 
of  mind  and  heart  —  his  skill,  his  honor,  his  high  profes 
sional  worth  —  that  it  hurts  me  to  know  that  one  so  near 
to  me  as  you  are ;  one  whom  I  so  truly  love,  should  feel 
towards  him  the  slightest  repugnance,  or  misapprehend 
him  in  the  smallest  degree." 

"  We  are  not  all  alike,"  was  the  answer  of  Madeline. 
There  was  more  in  her  thought  that  she  intended  to  say  • 
but  she  paused  with  this  sentence.  Mrs.  Cairne  waited 
for  her  to  go  on,  but  she  kept  silent. 

"  I'm  pained,"  said  Mrs.  Cairne,  "  that  anything  in  the 
slightest  degree  unpleasant  should  have  occurred  in  my 
house  with  friends  whom  I  so  highly  regard.  Pray  be 
frank  with  me,  dear  Mrs.  Jansen !  Tell  me  exactly  what 
appeared  in  the  doctor's  manner?" 

Something  whispered  Mrs.  Jansen  to  be  on  her  guard. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  tell,"  she  replied.  "  We  cannot 
always  trace  our  impressions  to  their  causes.  It  is  enough, 
that  I  do  not  consider  myself  in  further  need  of  visits 
from  a  physician.  We  all  have  our  peculiarities,  you  know. 
Set  this  down  as  one  of  mine  ;  but  do  not,  I  pray,  let  it 
stand  as  anything  between  us." 

"  No  —  no,  not  for  an  instant !  "  warmly  and  frankly  re 
turned  Mrs.  Cairne,  and  she  kissed  her  friend.  To  Mrs. 
Jansen,  the  kiss  had  a  strange  feeling,  as  if  it  were  a  kiss 
of  betrayal. 

On  the  next  day,  Doctor  B called  at  the  usual 

hour.  Mrs.  Jansen  heard  the  bell,  and  going  to  her  room 
door,  opened  it  and  listened.  She  knew  the  doctor's  step 
as  he  entered  the  hall.  Mrs.  Cairne  was  in  the  parlor, 
and  came  out  to  meet  him.  For  some  time  they  talked  in 


158  OUT    IN    THE    WORLD. 

low  voice.  Madeline  stood  in  the  upper  passage,  and 
leaned  over  the  baluster,  hearkening  intently ;  but  she 
could  not  make  out  a  word.  From  the  hall  they  present 
ly  retired  into  the  parlors,  and  with  a  sense  of  relief,  Mad 
eline  returned  to  her  room  and  shut  the  door.  She  did 
not  feel  at  case  in  her  mind.  An  impression  of  insecuri 
ty  lay  heavily  upon  her  heart.  Many  doubts  had  op 
pressed  her  in  the  last  twenty-four  hours,  many  questions 
perplexed  her  that  were  still  as  far  from  being  solved  as 
ever. 

From  this  state,  as  she  sat  musing  she  was  aroused  by 
hearing  the  sound  of  a  man's  feet  on  the  stairs.  The  doc 
tor,  in  spite  of  her  request  that  his  visits  should  cease,  was 
coming  to  her  chamber !  A  feeling  of  indignation  flashed 
through  her  soul.  Her  first  thought  was  to  confront  him 
at  the  door,  and  sternly  order  him  to  retire ;  but  a  sense 
of  loneliness  and  weakness  quickly  brought  another  reso 
lution.  She  turned  the  key  in  the  lock,  and  then,  feeling 
secure,  retired  across  the  chamber,  and  sat  down.  A  light 
tap  announced  the  doctor's  presence. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "   Madeline  asked. 

"  The  doctor,"  was  replied. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  see  you."  There  was  an  angry  impulse 
in  the  tones  of  Mrs.  Jansen,  as  she  made  this  abrupt  re 
sponse. 

A  moment  alter,  and  a  hand  was  laid  upon  the  door 
knob;  but  tho- sprung  bolt  proved  an  interdict.  All  was 
still  for  the  space  of  a  minute.  Madeline  sat  with  half 
suspended  breath,  listening  anxiously.  At  length  her 
cars  detected  a  movement,  and  she  fancied  that  whispers 
were  in  the  air.  The  sound  of  retiring  feet  came  dis 
tinctly  —  a  muffled  and  diminishing  sound,  that  soon  fell 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  159 

away  into  silence.  More  than  an  hour  elapsed  before 
Mrs.  Cairne  came  to  her  room. 

"  You  are  a  foolish  thing,"  she  said,  half  chidingly,  yet 
with  her  usual  frank  and  pleasant  manner  —  "  I'm  sorry  you 
didn't  see  the  doctor.  But,  no  matter.  He  thought 
strangely  of  you  —  how  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  " 

"I thought  strangely  of  Awn,"  was  Madeline's  answer, 
speaking  with  slight  signs  of  anger.  "  He  may  be  gentle, 
manly,  and  all  that ;  but  when  a  patient  says  she  does  not 
wish  to  be  seen,  both  gentlemanly  feeling  and  professional 
sensitiveness  would  prompt  a  physician  to  regard  her  will." 

"Oh,  well,  let  it  pass,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Cairne.  "The 
doctor  was  over-anxious  about  you,  and  in  trying  to  see  you, 
even  against  your  wishes,  only  obeyed  a  sense  of  duty. 
But  while  he  thought  strangely  of  you,  I  said,  he  was  not 
offended.  He  is  used  to  these  idosyncracies  of  patients, 
and  can  make  allowance  for  them." 

In  the  eyes  of  Madeline  there  had  come  over  Mrs.  Cairne 
a  strange  transformation.  She  had  noticed  something  of 
this  from  the  moment  she  entered  her  house  —  it  had  pro 
gressed  day  by  day,  and  now  as  she  looked  upon  her,  she 
did  not  appear  like  the  same  woman  she  had  known.  Be 
neath  the  courteous  manner,  the  open,  free-hearted  smile 
and  voice,  was  revealed  another  personality  —  selfish 
sinister,  false  and  cruel.  Mrs.  Jansen  felt  a  chill  of  repul 
sion  steal  along  her  nerves  as  she  looked  at  her.  To 
the  last  remark  of  Mrs.  Cairne,  no  reply  was  made. 

"  I  am  going  out  for  an  hour  or  two  this  morning,"  she 
said,  after  remaining  with  Mrs.  Jansen  for  a  short  time  — 
"  is  there  anything  that  you  would  like  me  to  get  for  you  ?  " 

"Nothing,  thank  you,"  was  replied,  "and  don't  hurry 
yourself  about  returning ;  I  shall  find  company  in  a  book." 


160  OUT   IX    THE    WORLD. 

But  no  book  had  interest  enough  for  Mrs.  Jansen  on  that 
morning.  Soon  after  Mrs.  Cairnc  went  out,  she  changed 
her  dress,  and  descended  to  the  parlor,  for  the  first  time  in 
many  days.  She  felt  weak  but  not  sick.  Fever  had  relin 
quished  its  hold  upon  her  system.  She  had  been  in  the 
parlor  scarcely  half  an  hour,  when  a  visitor  came  in.  So 
absorbed  were  her  thoughts  that  she  had  not  heard  the 
bell.  Rising  quickly  as  a  lady  entered  the  parlor,  she 
found  herself  face  to  face  with  Mrs.  Windall ! 

"  My  dear,  dear  child ! "  ejaculated  the  latter,  coming 
quickly  forwards,  and  grasping  her  reluctant  hand  — 
"  what  on  earth  are  you  doing  here  ? "  She  spoke  in  an 
excited  manner,  yet  in  an  undertone,  very  low  and  myste 
rious.  Her  whole  manner  expressed  concern,  as  well  as 
surprise. 

"  Why  not  here  ?  "  inquired  Madeline,  relaxing  just  a 
little  from  her  coldness. 

"  That  you  should  ask  such  a  question,  standing  as  you 
are  in  the  very  gates  of  death  and  the  jaws  of  hell !  "  said 
Mrs.  Windall,  with  painful  solemnity  of  manner. 

Madeline's  face  grew  white. 

"  Explain  yourself.  What  does  this  language  mean  ?  " 
demanded  Mrs.  Jansen. 

Mrs.  Windall  bent  to  her  ear,  and  whispered  a  few  words. 
Mrs.  Jansen' started  as  if  a  serpent  had  stung  her,  ejacula 
ting— 

"  No !  —  no !  that  is  impossible ! " 

"  It  is  as  true  as  the  sun  shines,  and  every  moment  you 
linger  here  is  a  moment  of  shame  and  peril.  Should  the 
fact  of  your  having  been  in  this  house  reach  your  husband's 
ears,  the  barrier  between  you  will  become  eternal.  He 
will  look  upon  you  as  one  of  the  vilest." 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  161 

"  And  pray  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  asked  Mrs  Jan- 
sen,  her  pale,  trembling  lips  growing  firm. 

"  Ten  minutes  ago  I  met  Mrs.  Cairne,  and  learned  to  my 
astonishment  that  you  were  in  her  house.  That  is  why  I 
arn  here.  Could  I  hesitate  an  instant,  when  I  knew  that 
you  were  on  enchanted  ground,  full  of  snares  and  pitfalls  ? 
I  am  here  to  warn  you  of  danger,  and  to  aid  you  in  escape. 
Ah,  my  dear  young  friend !  the  way  in  which  you  have 
elected  to  walk  is  a  difficult  and  a  dangerous  one.  Not 
Christian,  on  his  journey  to  the  Promised  Land,  was  more 
beset  or  in  more  peril  than  you  will  be." 

"I  shall  leave  instantly,"  said  Mrs.  Jansen.  She  was 
pale  and  distressed,  and  shivered  with  a  nervous  chill. 

"Have  you  been  sick?"  asked  Mrs.  Windall,  observing 
her  more  closely. 

"  Yes ;  this  is  the  first  time  I've  been  out  of  my  room 
for  several  days ;  I've  been  quite  ill  with  fever." 

"  Shall  I  get  a  carriage  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Windall. 

"Oh,  no,  no!"  replied  Mrs.  Jansen,  "I  wouldn't  be  seen 
going  from  here  in  a  carriage  for  the  world.  How  near 
do  the  stages  run  ?  " 

"  Very  near." 

"  I  will  put  on  my  things  and  leave  immediately.  You'll 
wait  until  I  come  down  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  don't  be  long ;  Mrs.  Cairne  may  return  at 
any  moment,  or  you  may  be  confronted  with  some  caller, 
who  will  bruit  the  fact  of  your  being  here,  and  blast  your 
good  name." 

A  little  while  afterwards,  and  the  two  women  went  out 
together.  Madeline's  steps  were  feeble.  She  clung  to 
the  arm  of  Mrs.  Windall,  moving  slowly  away,  her  veil 
drawn  tightly  over  her  face.  There  were  many  persons 


162  OUT   IN   THE   WOELD. 

in  the  street  as  they  emerged  from  the  house  of  Mrs, 
Cairn e,  and,  from  some  cause,  they  attracted  attention, 
two  or  three  individuals  stopping  and  turning  to  look  af 
ter  them,  as  they  passed  along  the  street. 

"Who  was  that  man?"  asked  Mrs.  Windall.  They 
were  only  the  distance  of  three  or  four  houses  away  from 
Mrs.  Cairne's.  A  man,  a  few  steps  in  advance  of  them, 
had  paused  suddenly,  as  if  to  speak,  or  in  surprise.  It 
was  plain  to  Mrs.  Windall  from  the  start  and  shrinking 
against  her  of  Mrs.  Janscn,  that  she  knew  him.  But  Mad 
eline  did  not  meet  the  sign  of  recognition  —  only  drew 
her  veil  closer,  looking  down,  and  passing  on. 

"Did  you  know  him?"  Mrs.  Windall  repeated  her 
question,  but  in  another  form. 

«  Yes." 

"Who  was  it?" 

But  the  question  received  no  answer. 

"  He  recognized  you." 

The  only  response  to  this  was  a  nervous  pressure 
against  the  arm  on  which  she  was  leaning. 

Yes,  he  had  recognized  her,  and  she  knew  it  —  he,  of 
all  men  living,  the  last  she  would  have  met  of  her  own 
will  just  in  that  place !  Had  he  seen  her  leaving  the 
house  of  Mrs.  Cairne  ?  Did  he  know  the  reputation  it 
bore  ?  These  questions  seemed  as  if  they  would  kill  her. 
Suddenly,  there  seemed  to  rise  between  her  and  her  hus 
band  a  barrier  high  as  Heaven.  She  was  shut  away  from 
him  forever.  It  was  no  longer  by  her  own  will  that  she 
stood  apart.  A  wall  of  separation,  impossible  to  scale, 
had  been  erected  in  an  instant,  and  she  was  now  a  hope 
less  wanderer  on  the  other  side. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


NCE  more  fairly  in  her  power,  Mrs. 
Windall  used  all  the  subtle  art  she  pos 
sessed,  in  order  to  hold  Mrs.  Jansen 
passive  to  her  will.  She  had,  within  a 
day  or  two,  changed  her  home,  and 
was  now  residing  in  Jersey  City,  occu 
pying  a  pleasant  room  in  a  suburban 
residence  that  overlooked  the  bay. 
Not  in  a  boarding-house,  but  as  the 
guest  at  will  of  a  lady  in  good  circum 
stances,  a  recent  acquaintance,  between  whom  and  herself 
a  sudden  and  close  intimacy  had  been  formed.  This  lady's 
name  was  Barling.  She  was  a  widow,  with  only  one  cliild, 
a  boy  six  years  old. 

Mrs.  Barling  was  a  woman  of  some  cultivation  and  taste, 
and  enjoyed  intercourse  with  intellectual  people,  though 
not  very  intellectual  herself.  In  the  sphere  of  other  and 
stronger  minds,  her  thought  was  quickened  to  higher 
activity,  and  so  dwelt  in  regions  Avhich  she  could  not  have 
attained  alone.  There  was  sufficient  pleasure  in  this  to 


164  ,          OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

lead  her  much  into  the  society  of  men  and  women  of  su 
perior  minds.  Mra.  Windall,  slightly  repelling  her  at  the 
first  meeting,  had,  subsequently,  attracted  her  strongly. 
She  noted  peculiarities  —  some  of  them  in  opposition  to 
her  good  taste  —  but  set  them  down  as  eccentricities  of 
genius.  These  she  soon  ceased  to  observe.  Flowing  in 
with  the  even  current  of  Mrs.  Barling's  life,  Mrs.  Windall 
had  pleased  her  with  flatteries  skilfully  applied,  and  so 
won  upon  her  affection  and  confidence.  An  invitation  to 
Bpend  a  few  weeks  at  her  house  was  given  with  such  an 
earnest  cordiality,  that  a  person  of  far  less  independence 
of  feelings  than  Mrs.  Windall,  would  scarcely  have  hesita 
ted  on  the  question  of  acceptance. 

By  the  time  Mrs.  Jansen  reached  the  residence  of  Mrs. 
Barling,  she  was  so  exhausted  that  she  could  scarcely  bear 
up  the  weight  of  her  body.  Assisted  by  Mrs.  Windall 
and  a  servant,  she  was  just  able  to  ascend  to  one  of  the 
chambers,  where  she  sunk,  half  fainting,  on  a  bed.  A 
little  wine  gave  artificial  stimulus  to  the  weak  and  palpi 
tating  nerves.  In  the  repose  that  followed  she  slept. 

During  this  interval  of  sleep,  Mrs.  Windall  had  oppor 
tunity  to  explain  fully  to  her  friend  the  circumstances  under 
which  she  had  found  Mrs.  Jansen,  and  to  awaken  a  strong 
interest  in  her  favor.  A  cordial  welcome  to  her  house,  and 
an  invitation  to  remain  as  long  as  she  felt  inclined  to  do 
so,  were  given  by  Mrs.  Barling,  and  thankfully  accepted. 

"  Do  not  apprehend,"  said  Mrs.  Jansen,  her  eyes  full  of 
grateful  tears,  "  that  I  will  become  a  burdensome  intrud 
er.  Give  me  a  brief  time  to  recover  my  strength,  and  to 
determine ,  my  steps  for  the  future,  and  I  will  pass  on. 
The  way  before  me  is  shrouded  in  darkness.  I  cannot 
see  in  what  direction  it  runs,  but  I  know  that  it  is  a  difli- 


OUT   IX    THE    WORLD.  165 

cult  and  dangerous  way.  I  need  a  little  pause,  and  in  a 
place  where  I  can  stand  firm,  that  I  may  gird  myself  for 
the  struggles  that  await  me." 

The  effort  and  excitement  which  had  attended  Made 
line's  escape  from  the  house  of  Mrs.  Cairne,  left  her  very 
weak,  and  with  symptoms  of  fever.  Two  or  three  days 
passed  before  she  was  able  to  leave  her  room.  During 
the  time  she  was  scarcely  ever  alone,  Mrs.  Windall  was 
her  constant  companion.  The  strong  repugnance  she  had 
felt  towards  this  woman  gradually  subsided,  and  while 
she  felt  no  attraction  towards  her,  she  almost  unconscious 
ly  yielded  up  her  will,  and  suffered  her  thoughts  and  fu 
ture  plans  to  take  the  direction  that  she  pointed  out. 

Mrs.  Windall  was  a  thoroughly  selfish  and  unscrupu 
lous  woman.  Every  thought  was  limited  by  considera 
tions  of  a  personal  nature,  and  ministered  to  sinister  ends. 
Under  the  guise  of  philanthropic  profession,  she  concealed 
an  unwavering  devotion  to  selfish  ends.  Her  first  thought, 
on  meeting  Mrs.  Jansen  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Woodbine, 
after  the  separation,  was  —  "  How  can  I  turn  this  circum 
stance  to  account  ?  "  And,  almost  instantly,  a  suggestion 
of  the  means  came.  It  was  for  this  reason  that  she  was 
so  prompt  to  invite  Mrs.  Jansen  to  go  home  with  her, 
and  that  she  was  so  basely  unscrupulous  about  the  ways 
in  which  she  sought  to  obtain  control  over  the  tried  and 
unhappy  woman. 

Too  indolent  or  proud,  for  ordinary  useful  work,  where 
by  to  secure  an  income,  Mrs.  Windall  lacked  the  genius 
for  higher  efforts.  A  few  times  she  had  tried  public  read 
ings,  but  miserably  failed,  the  receipts  for  tickets  not  cov 
ering  half  of  the  expenses.  Once  pressed  for  the  means 
of  living,  after  exhausting  the  patience  of  temporary 


166  OUT   IN   TUB   WORLD. 

friends,  who  gradually  receded  the  more  intimately  they 
knew  her,  she  tried,  under  an  assumed  address,  the  gnme 
of  a  public  swindler.  In  this  she  was  more  successful  in 
a  pecuniary  way ;  but  ran  such  a  narrow  risk  of  arrest  and 
exposure,  that  she  had  never  since- felt  easy  in  mind. 

The  swindling  operation  we  have  mentioned  was  in  this 
wise.  Mrs.  Windall,  under  a  false  name,  and  with  forged 
letters  of  credence  and  introduction,  purporting  to  be 
from  well  known  persons  in  the  Southern  States,  visited 
Buffalo,  where  she  advertised  for  twenty-five  teachers, 
young  women,  to  go  South,  promising  immediate  engage 
ments  in  seminaries  and  families,  with  liberal  compensa 
tion.  Applications,  many,  came  in  to  her,  and  she  found 
little  difficulty  in  making  arrangements  with  twenty-five 
young  ladies  to  accompany  her  to  Charleston.  A  time 
was  appointed  for  the  journey  to  begin,  and  on  the  day 
previous,  each  of  the  girls  placed  in  the  hands  of  Mrs. 
Windall  the  sum  of  thirty  dollars,  for  the  payment  of  ex 
penses.  She  Avas  to  procure  tickets  for  the  company,  and 
to  meet  them  at  the  railroad  depot  in  the  morning.  But, 
on  their  assembling  at  the  depot  at  the  appointed  time, 
Mrs.  Windall  was  not  there.  She  had  departed  in  a  mid 
night  train,  with  over  seven  hundred  dollars  in  her  pock 
et,  and  was  never  again  seen  or  heard  of  in  Buffalo. 

The  swindle  was  published,  and  some  efforts  made  to 
find  and  punish  the  swindler.  But,  as  the  cheated  girls 
were  poor,  and  without  influential  friends,  there  was  but 
little  to  stimulate  police  efforts,  and  Mrs.  Windall,  though 
seriously  alarmed  for  her  safety,  managed  to  run  clear. 
She  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  try  other  schemes  of  a 
like  nature.  The  risk  was  to  plainly  before  her  eyes. 

The  manner  in  which  she  proposed  too  use  Mrs.  Jan- 


OUT  IX   THE   WORLD.  167 

sen  to  her  own  advantage  was  this.  The  suggestion  had 
come  to  her  at  the  house  of  Mrs.  Woodbine,  and  the  more 
she  dwelt  upon  it,  the  more  assured  of  success  did  she  feel. 
Mrs.  Jansen  was  young,  and  attractive  in  person.  Dressed 
for  eifect  in  the  flash  and  glare  of  evening  lights,  she 
would  appear  brilliant.  She  had  talent  of  a  certain  order. 
In  some  of  the  companies  which  met  at  Mrs.  Woodbine's 
there  had  been  readings,  and  Madeline,  on  these  occasions, 
had  several  times  taken  part,  and  acquitted  herself  to  the 
admiration  of  all.  Enthusiastic,  and  apt  to  enter  with  her 
whole  soul  into  whatever  she  might  be  doing,  she  had,  in 
some  of  her  efforts,  reached  a  singular  perfection,  holding 
her  little  audiences  almost  spell-bound.  All  this  Mrs.  Win- 
dall  remembered;  and  when  she  saw  this  beautiful  young 
creature  breaking  aAvay  from  her  home,  instead  of  pain 
and  pity  for  the  grief  and  trouble  that  were  before  her, 
came  a  thrill  of  pleasure  in  the  thought,  that  she  might 
turn  her  talents  to  account  for  her  own  benefit.  It  was 
this  dimly  shadowed  purpose  that  led  her  so  promptly  to 
encourage  Madeline,  in  opposition  to  Mrs.  Woodbine;  and 
that  induced  her  to  take  her  home,  as  we  have  seen. 

The  plan  of  using  Mrs.  Jansen's  personal  attractions 
and  talents  as  here  indicated,  once  conceived  by  Mrs.  Win- 
dall,  was  not  to  be  relinquished.  She  saw  an  easy  way  of 
improving  her  rather  desperate  circumstances  opening  be 
fore  her,  and  it  was  worth  an  effort  to  remove  the  obstruc 
tions  that  kept  her  feet  back  from  entrance. 

The  first  thing  done  by  Mrs.  Windall  towards  accom 
plishing  her  end,  now  that  she  had  her  victim  in  her  power, 
and  full  time  to  plot  and  plan  at  leisure,  was  to  win  over 
Mrs.  Barling  to  her  views.  Mrs.  Barling  was  a  weak,  as 
well  as  a  confiding  woman ;  and  where  she  trusted  another 


108  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

of  stronger  mind  than  herself,  could  easily  be  led  to  see 
•with  that  other  one's  eyes.  The  first  intimation  of  what  was 
in  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Windall,  rather  shocked  her  feelings 
than  elicited  approval.  But,  Mrs.  Windall  not  only  under 
stood  human  nature  in  general,  but  the  particular  human 
nature  of  her  friend,  and  with  the  skill  of  an  accomplished 
tactician,  soon  managed  to  lead  her  into  the  position  she 
considered  it  most  desirable  for  her  to  occupy. 

To  Mrs.  Jansen,  the  subject  was  at  first  introduced  in  re 
mote  hints ;  but  she  did  not  understand  them.  Nothing 
could  have  been  farther  from  her  thoughts.  When,  at  last, 
the  suggestion  came  to  her  mind  in  a  definite  form,  she 
shrunk  back  from  the  idea  with  a  shiver  of  reluctance.  In 
pondering  the  future,  and  scanning  the  ways  and  means 
by  which  she  Avas  to  live,  this  had  not  once  occurred  to 
her.  Most  emphatically  did  she  answer,  "  No,  no !  I  will 
never  think  of  that." 

But  Mrs.  Windall  was  not  the  woman  to  relinquish  any 
well  digested  scheme  in  which  she  was  to  derive  benefit. 
First  bringing  Mrs.  Barling  entirely  over  to  her  views  of 
the  case,  which  was  easily  done,  she  commenced  her  insidi 
ous  work  upon  Mrs.  Jansen.  With  a  most  painful  vivid 
ness  did  she  bring  before  her  mind  the  difficulties  that 
would  beset  her  way.  She  must  live  self-sustained,  but 
how? 

"  Now  is  the  time  to  look  this  question  clearly  in  the 
face,"  she  said,  "and  to  determine  your  course  for  the 
future.  How  will  you  live  ?  If  I  were  less  your  friend 
than  I  am,  I  would  not  pain  you  by  thrusting  the  subject 
into  view ;  but,  as  your  friend,  deeply  interested  in  your 
well  being,  I  cannot  shrink  from  the  way  of  duty.  How 


*  OUT   IN   THE    WORLD.  lO'J 

are  you  to  live  ?  In  breaking  away  from  the  tyranny  of 
your  husband,  you  left  empty-handed,  and  you  are  too 
proud  and  independent  to  ask  of  him  anything.  You  have 
no  income  in  your  own  right.  So  the  question  of  living 
is  resolved  into  self-dependence.  You  must  earn  your 
bread.  Here  is  the  naked  truth ;  and  the  question  repeats 
itself —  How  ?  There  are  only  two  ways ;  by  skill  of 
hands  or  skill  of  head.  Which  will  you  choose  ?  For  wo 
men,  as  you  are  too  well  advised,  the  avenues  to  remunera 
tive  positions  are  few.  You  cannot  get  a  clerkship  in  a  bank 
or  counting-house,  nor  secure  the  secretaryship  of  an  in 
surance  company.  The  doors  of  all  public  offices  are 
closed  against  us.  You  might  find  a  place  in  some  fancy 
dry  goods'  or  mantilla  store.  Perhaps  Brodie  would  ac 
cept  your  services  at  four  or  five  dollars  a  week  as  a  lay 
figure, on  which  to  exhibit  cloaks.  But,  I  dont  know. 
Then  there  is  teaching.  What  are  your  gifts  and  quali 
fications,  looking  to  this  line  of  employment  ?  " 

Mrs.  Jansen  shdbk  her  head  gloomily. 

"  You  are  not  fit  for  a  teacher.  That  is  cleai',"  said  Mrs. 
Windall,  emphatically.  "What  then  ?  There  is  needle 
work  ;  or,  in  other  words,  suicide.  But,  one  possessing 
your  gifts  and  education,  would  hardly  go  down  to  enter 
into  competition  with  poor,  half  stai'ved  needle  women. 
No  —  no.  You  were  made  for  something  higher  and  bet 
ter  —  for  a  broader  and  nobler  sphere  - —  for  the  exercise 
of  talents  such  as  only  the  few  possess.  You  have  drama 
tic  powers  of  no  ordinary  kind." 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  replied  Mrs.  Jansen,  warmly,  yet 
with  a  troubled  tone  and  manner.     "And  even  if  I  did 
possess  dramatic  talents,  one  thing  is  certain,  I  will  never 
8 


170  OUT   IN   THE   WOKLD. 

go  on  the  stage.  Teaching,  the  needle,  store-attendance 
—  anything  but  that ! " 

"  I  did  not  suggest  the  stage,"  said  Mrs.  Windall.  "  You 
misunderstood  me.  I  only  referred  to  your  dramatic 
power  as  an  important  element  in  public  reading.  That 
is  the  guarantee  of  your  high  success ;  a  success  that  will 
make  you  independent  in  the  world.  A  little  earnest 
training  of  your  voice  —  and  a  few  lessons  from  a  good 
elocutionist  —  and  you  are  as  certain  as  the  day  to  succeed. 
I  know  your  delicacy  of  feeling  —  your  sensitiveness  about 
coming  before  the  public ;  but  there  is  a  way  of  self-protec 
tion  entirely  justifiable.  You  may  come  out  as  a  public 
reader,  and  yet  avoid  all  unpleasant  notoriety." 

"How?" 

"  By  doing  as  others  have  done.  Assume  a  name  for 
public  use.  No  one  is  hurt  thereby.  No  wrong  is  intend 
ed.  The  act  will  be,  as  I  have  intimated,  simply  one  of 
self-protection.  A  writer  has  the  option  of  concealing 
his  personality  under  a  nom  de  plume ;  and  may  not  a 
speaker  do  the  same  ?  It  is  clear  enough  to  my  mind ; 
and  a  little  reflection  will  make  it  clear  enough  to  yours." 

But,  against  both  a  public  appearance  and  an  assumed 
'name,  the  feelings  of  Madeline  strongly  revolted ;  and  it 
required  all  the  subtlety  and  management  of  the  woman 
in  whose  power  she  had  fallen,  to  overcome  the  delicacy 
and  high  sense  of  honor  that  were  shocked  by  the  pro 
posal.  Of  all  the  means  used  to  reduce  Madeline  to  her 
will,  we  will"not  speak.  The  reader  has  already  seen  the 
dangerous  power  that  Mrs.  Windall  had  gained  over  her ; 
a  power  not  likely  to  be  relinquished,  when  its  use  would 
serve  the  purpose  she  had  in  view.  It  was  on  her  side, 
and  against  her  victim,  that  with  every  submission  of  will 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  171 

to  the  exercise  of  that  demoniac  influence  which  had  laid 
passive  the  volition  of  Madeline,  susceptibility  increased. 
Of  causes,  and  the  philosophy  explanatory  of  these  causes, 
it  is  not  for  us  here  to  speak.  We  have  to  do  only  with  a 
fact  that  is  full  of  significance  and  warning. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


RS.  Barling  was  a  kind,  generous, 
hospitable  woman  ;  and  it  went  hard 
with  her,  after  Mrs.  Jansen  had  been 
in  her  house  for  a  month,  to  let  an 
intimation  drop,  on  the  presence  of  a 
fitting  occasion,  to  the  effect,  that  it 
was  time  she  was  beginning  to  try 
her  strength  in  the  world.  Of  her 
self,  she  could  not  have  done  this. 
It  was  Mrs.  Windall  who  spoke 
through  her. 

That  hint  was  sufficient,  and  Mrs.  Jansen,  stung  to  the 
quick,  made  almost  immediate  preparation  to  leave.  It 
was  in  vain  that  Mrs.  Barling  remonstrated,  and  in  all  sin 
cerity  urged  her  to  remain  longer.  The  native  pride  and 
independence  of  Mrs.  Jansen  was  hurt  and  nothing  could 
reconcile  her  to  stay.  The  question  of  going  clearly  set 
tled,  that  of  when  and.  whither  was  fairly  opened,  and 
grave  discussions  followed  that  only  showed  Madeline  how 
dark  and  difficult  was  the  path  lying  before  her,  and  left 


OUT   US   THE   WORLD.  173 

her  mind  deeper  in  labarynthine  doubts.  Plalf  maddened 
by  the  pain  of  her  situation,  the  unhappy  woman  at  last 
gave  up,  and  dropped,  passively,  into  the  hands  of  Mrs. 
Windall.  A  few  months  of  training  for  the  new  work 
upon  which  she  had  so  reluctantly  consented  to  begin, 
was  considered  necessary  both  by  Mrs.  Windall  and  Mrs. 
Barling,  and  after  strong  persuasion  and  repeated  apolo 
gies  and  explanations  from  the  latter,  Mrs.  Jansen  consent 
ed  to  remain  her  guest  during  this  time  of  preparation. 

In  Philadelphia  the  first  trial  was  made  by  Mrs.  Jansen, 
just  six  months  after  the  fatal  day  of  separation  front  her 
husband.  The  newspapers,  jointly  with  posters  displayed 
all  over  the  city,  announced  that  a  Mrs.  Aberdeen  would 
give  dramatic  readings  at  the  Musical  Fund  Hall,  on  a  cer 
tain  evening.  The  programme  embraced  a  few  well 
known  passages  from  Shakspeare;  the  "Lady  Geral- 
dine's  Courtship,"  by  Mrs.  Browning;  "Horatius,"  from 
Macaulay's  Lays  of  ancient  Rome  ;  "  The  Raven,"  and 
"  The  Bells,"  of  Poe  ;  with  humorous  pieces  interspersed. 

Mrs.  Windall  had  many  old  acquaintances  in  Philadel 
phia,  and  she  did  not  hesitate  about  calling  on  them,  not 
withstanding  her  collapse  in  that  city  some  years  before. 
She  trusted  to  a  weakness  of  memory,  the  softening  in 
fluence  of  time,  and  her  own  assurance,  for  a  re-establish 
ment  of  former  friendly  relations.  Some,  who  did  not 
easily  forget,  and  others  who  could  not  renew  a  confi 
dence  once  betrayed,  kept  her  at  a  distance;  but  she 
found  enough  ready  to  forget  and  forgive  the  past,  and 
through  them  was  able  to  create  a  warm  interest  in  her 
young  and  attractive  friend,  and  secure  for  her  a  fair  au 
dience. 

As  the  hour  for  Madeline's  first  appearance  in  public 


174  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

drew  near,  a  nervous  anxiety  about  the  result  took  posses 
sion  of  her.  An  active  imagination  kept  the  scene  in 
which  she  was  about  to  participate  too  vividly  before  her 
mind.  She  saw  herself  standing  alone  before  a  large  con 
course  of  people,  and  felt  herself  dumb  in  their  presence. 
How  could  she  lift  her  voice  in  calm  assurance  ?  How 
could  she  lose  self-consciousness,  and  dwell  in  the  ideas 
and  characters  she  was  to  represent  ?  It  seemed  to  her 
impossible.  Mrs.  Windall,  who  saw,  with  deep  concern, 
the  state  into  which  she  was  falling,  used  all  the  means  of 
reassurance  that  were  suggested  to  her  thoughts,  but  with 
out  apparent  success.  The  paleness  of  Madeline's  face, 
its  anxiety,  and  the  expression  of  dread  or  fear  that  was 
settling  over  it,  alarmed  her  for  the  result  of  the  evening's 
experiments. 

"This  will  never  do,"  she  said,  half  kindly,  half  chid- 
ingly,  as  the  evening  approached.  "  Confidence  creates 
success,  even  where  ability  is  small.  In  your  case,  where 
there  is  so  much  talent,  all  that  is  needed  for  triumph  is 
sdf-assurance.  Throw  all  this  timidity  to  the  winds.  You 
are  standing  at  the  threshold  of  a  brilliant  career;  do  not, 
by  any  unwomanly  weakness,  put  the  result  in  jeopardy." 

"  I  have  no  faith  in  myself,"  Madeline  replied  gloomily. 

"  While  I  have  all  faith.  Forget  yourself;  and  be,  for 
.the  time,  the  character  you  assume." 

"  I  cannot  forget  myself."  Some  irritation  appeared  in 
Mrs.  Jansen's  manner.  "  "What  I  am  —  where  I  am  — 
and  what  I  am  about  doing,  hold  my  thoughts  in  bond 
age.  I  see  myself  shrinking,  trembling,  dumb  in  the 
presence  of  a  multitude.  Oh  that  I  could  fly  away  to 
some  desert,  and  escape  this  fiery  trial ! " 

Mrs.  Windall  was  alarmed.     She  had  given  Madeline 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  175 

credit  for  more  strength  of  nerve ;  had  built  confidently 
on  success.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  Madeline's  nerves 
were  excited  —  she  must  tranquilize  them  if  possible. 
She  took  one  of  her  hands.  Its  coldness  struck  her  with 
surprise. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  are  not  well,"  she  said. 

"My  head  is  aching  badly,"  Madeline  answered. 

"  How  long  has  this  been  ?  " 

"  It  has  been  aching  all  day.  Slightly  during  the  fore 
noon  —  intensely  for  the  last  two  hours." 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  of  this?  "  said  Mrs.  Windall, 
a  little  sharply.  They  had  been  sitting  close  together, 
facing  each  other.  Mrs.  Windall  arose,  and  standing  near 
Madeline,  drew  her  head  against  her  side.  There  was  a 
feeble  effort  on  the  part  of  Madeline  to  remove  herself 
from  this  contact,  but  Mrs.  Windall  smoothed  her  hair 
softly  with  one  hand,  while  she  used  some  force  with  the 
other  to  retain  the  head  where  she  had  placed  it.  In  a 
few  moments,  Mrs.  Jansen  was  entirely  passive. 

"  Is  your  head  easier  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Windall. 

"Yes." 

"  You  should  have  mentioned  this  before.  There  is  mag 
ic  in  my  touch.  I  have  the  gift  of  healing." 

MIPS.  Jansen  made  no  reply,  but  sat  with  her  head  leaning 
heavily  against  Mrs.  Windall,  like  one  who  had  abandoned 
herself  to  the  enjoyment  of  that  easeful  rest  which  follows 
pain.  A  dull  kind  of  stupor  followed,  from  which  it  re 
quired  some  effort  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Windall  to  arouse 
her.  Slowly  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Jansen  came  back  to  a 
realization  of  the  actual.  The  audience,  in  presence  of 
which  she  had,  in  imagination,  stood  weak  and  shivering, 
had  faded  from  her  eyes.  She  had  forgotten  everything 


176  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

external  in  the  dreamy  quiet  which  this  syren  had  thrown 
around  her  spirit.  Now,  as  thought  was  released  from 
bonds,  and  imagination  went  wandering  again  in  the 
mazes  from  which  it  had  been  withdrawn,  the  old  quiver 
shook  her  nerves  —  the  old  throb  beat  in  her  temples  — 
the  old  fear  took  possession  of  her  heart. 

"I  shall  fail!  "she  said,  with  visible  agitation.  "Mis 
erably  fail !  What  folly !  Oh,  that  there  were  time  to 
recall  the  announcement." 

"If  there  was  one  quality  above  all  others  for  which  I 
gave  you  credit,"  replied  Mrs.  Windall,  "  it  was  courage. 
I  never  imagined,  for  an  instant,  that  the  woman  who 
could  face  the  issues  you  have  faced  alone,  standing  up  so 
bravely  in  your  own  strength,  could  be  coward  in  so  small 
a  thing  as  this.  Think  of  what  is  to  follow  success  or 
failure!  If  you  succeed,  you  are  independent  of  the 
world.  If  you  fail,  what  then  ?  Forget  whatever  may 
seem  unpleasant  in  the  means,  for  the  sake  of  the  end. 
Look  to  the  end  —  to  the  end  my  dear  Mrs.  Jan  sen  !  Away 
to  the  goal,  and  not  down  to  your  feet,  dreading  lest  you 
stumble  and  fall.  The  confident  command  success;  the 
timid  and  hesitating  are  sure  to  fail.  Summon  the  native 
strength  of  your  character.  Let  pride  come  to  your  aid. 
Spurn,  as  unworthy,  all  that  is  man-pleasing  or  man-fearing. 
Stand  up  strong,  heroic,  daring.  Confidence  is  inspira 
tion." 

Madeline  turned  her  face  away.  There  was  no  power 
in  all  these  sentences  to  help  her.  She  felt  herself  growing 
weaker  and  weaker.  She  was  frightened  at  the  prospect 
before  her. 

The  afternoon  had  Avorn  away  until  five  o'clock.  At 
eight,  Mrs.  Jansen  was  announced  to  appear  at  the  Musical 
Fund  Hall.  Only  three  hours  intervened. 


OUT   IN    THE    WOULD.  177 

"If  you  could  fall  asleep,"  said  Mrs.  Windall,  who  had 
become  alarmed  for  the  result. 

"  Sleep  calms  the  mind,  and  restores  its  lost  equipoise. 
Lie  down.  I  will  close  the  blinds.  Perhaps  you  may  lose 
yourself.  Even  a  few  minutes  of  forgetfulness  will  do 
much  good." 

"  Sleep  ! "  returned  Madeline,  almost  passionately,  "  you 
might  as  well  ask  the  martyr  on  his  bed  of  coals  to  sleep  ! " 

"  All  this  is  unworthy  of  you,"  said  Mrs.  Windall,  in  a  re 
buking  voice.  "  You  are  a  woman,  equipped  for  life's  bat 
tle  ;  not  a  half-grown  child.  Will  you  cower  and  skulk  in 
face  of  an  enemy  ?  Run  at  the  first  encounter  ?  For 
shame !  " 

The  spur  went  pricking  into  the  sensitive  flank,  and  the 
dull  blood  leaped  along  in  fuller  currents.  The  heart  of 
Madeline  was  a  little  stronger.  She  struggled  with  weak 
ness,  and  grew  brave. 

"  All  this  is  unwomanly,"  she  said.  "  I  must  rise  above 
it." 

"  Spoken  like  your  own  self,"  answered  Mrs.  Windall. 
"Yes,  you  must  rise  above  all  these  petty  weaknesses. 
Strength  comes  of  will.  Look  onward  to  achievement ; 
not  aside  at  difficulties.  If  there  be  lions  in  the  way,  the 
brave  heart  shall  find  them  chained." 

Evening  came.  At  eight  o'clock  Madeline  passed  up 
from  one  of  the  small  ante-rooms  on  the  first  floor,  to  the 
platform,  and  stood  facing  the  audience,  a  vision  of  beauty 
that  sent  admiring  murmurs  throughout  the  hall.  She  was 
not  dressed  according  to  her  own  taste  and  sense  of  pro 
priety  ;  nor  yet  in  a  manner  to  satisfy  Mrs.  Windall.  There 
had  been  a  compromise  on  this  head  between  manager 
and  debutante.  The  former  contended  for  low  neck,  short 
9* 


178  OUT   IN    THE    AVOBLD. 

sleeves,  and  pink  satin ;  the  latter  for  plain  black  and  a 
modest  arrangment  of  her  dress.  A  dove-colored  silk, 
rather  profusely  trimmed,  with  some  hair  ornaments,  and 
a  gay  sash,  exhibited  this  compromise.  As  there  was  not 
much  in  Madeline's  attire  to  draw  attention  from  her  face, 
which  was  almost  colorless  as  she  advanced  in  front  of 
the  audience,  all  eyes  scanned  it  with  curious  interest. 

This  was  the  critical  moment.  Mrs.  Windall,  who  had 
accompanied  her  on  the  stage,  held  her  breath  in  painful 
suspense.  Madeline,  as  she  stood  thus  confronting  a  sea 
of  upturned,  curious,  expectant  faces,  felt  the  old  sense  of 
weakness  and  terror  stealing  over  her.  But,  rallying  her 
self  with  a  desperate  effort  of  will,  she  threw  out  her  voice 
in  the  opening  piece  of  the  entertainment.  It  was  low 
and  unsteady  at  first,  causing  a  hush  throughout  the  as 
sembly  ;  but  soon  gained  firmness  and  volume.  There 
were  some  faults  in  the  elocution ;  but  so  much  in  the 
whole  rendering  of  the  scene  she  had  chosen  which  took 
the  audience  by  surprise,  that  she  was  greeted  with  an 
electric  outburst  of  applause  as  she  turned  from  the  read 
ing  desk,  and.  disappeared  from  the  platform.  Her  second 
and  third  pieces  were  more  enthusiastically  cheered  than 
the  first.  In  a  humorous  effort  that  followed,  she  was  not 
successful.  Her  mind  was  not  strung  to  anything  like  this. 
"  The  Raven"  that  came  afterwards  Avas  a  surprise,  and  had 
to  be  repeated.  Grandly  she  gave  "  Horatius,"  stirring  all 
hearts  with  a  battle  scene.  Tenderly,  and  with  almost 
unequalled  pathos,  she  read  "  the  Lady  Geraldine's  Court 
ship."  Mrs.  Browning  herself,  had  she  been  present,  must 
have  felt  some  passages  quite  as  deeply  as  when  they  thril 
led  her  soul  in  the  first  fervors  of  poetic  inspiration. 

It  Avas  a  triumph.    Rarely  has  it  occurred  that  such 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  179 

complete  success  attended  a  first  appearance  in  public. 
One  thing  was  noticeable.  The  paleness  did  not  leave  the 
face  of  Madeline.  Her  beautiful  eyes  flashed  and  changed, 
and  her  countenance  was  mobile  to  every  passion  and  sen 
timent  ;  but  the  whiteness  remained.  A  few  friends,  made 
during  her  brief  sojourn  in  Philadelphia,  came  into  the 
ante-room  below  after  the  performance,  to  offer  their  con- . 
gratulations.  They  found  her  in  an  exhausted  condition, 
like  one  whose  strength  had  been  greatly  overtasked.  She 
manifested  no  pleasure  when  they  spoke  enthusiastically 
of  her  success ;  and  seemed  only  desirous  to  get  away. 

On  reaching  her  room  at  the  hotel,  Madeline,  who  had 
remained  wholly  irresponsive  to  Mrs.  Windall,  (that  per 
son  was  in  a  kind  of  ecstacy  over  the  evening's  triumph) 
asked  to  be  let  alone. 

"  You  will  have  something,"  said  Mrs.  Windall,  linger 
ing. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Madeline  coldly. 

"  You  are  exhausted  by  so  unusual  an  eifort.  Let  me 
send  for  a  glass  of  wine."  Mrs.  Windall  made  a  move 
ment  as  if  about  to  pull  the  bell. 

"  No  —  no ! "  said  Madeline,  in  a  quick,  impatient  voice. 
"  I  said  that  I  wished  to  be  alone,"  she  added,  with  an  as 
sertion  of  will  that  took  Mrs.  Windall  by  surprise. 

The  latter  withdrew ;  as  she  shut  the  door  after  her, 
Madeline  turned  the  key,  that  she  might  be  safe  from 
further  intrusion.  Then  disrobing  herself,  she  got  into 
bed,  and  shrinking  down  among  the  clothes  and  pillows, 
lay  as  still  as  if  sleep  had  fallen  upon  her  instantly.  But 
sleep  was  very  far  from  her  eyelids.  Every  faculty  of 
mind  was  awake  and  in  action.  She  had  succeeded  in 
her  first  public  reading,  far  beyond  even  Mrs.  WindaU's 


180  OUT   IN   THE    WORLD. 

anticipations.  As  for  herself,  she  had  counted  on  failure. 
A  nervous  fear  had,  almost  up  to  the  last  moment,  op 
pressed  her.  How  she  overcame  the  weakness  was  not 
clear.  She  had  lost  the  chain  of  mental  action.  A  link 
was  missing  that  she  could  not  find.  Blindly  she  had 
stepped  over  a  chasm  into  which  she  had  expected  to  fall 
—  blindly,  and  so  the  way  across  that  chasm  was  lost, 
and  she  could  not  approach  it  again  in  any  hope  of  a  safe 
passage. 

As  the  case  stood  with  Mrs.  Jansen,  there  was  no  assur 
ance  in  the  future  from  this  night's  success.  The  triumph 
was  only  an  accident ;  not  a  sequence.  It  was  the  ques 
tion  of  advancing  or  receding  which  now  fully  occupied 
her  thoughts ;  a  question  that  she  meant  to  determine  be 
fore  the  next  day  dawn.  How  she  determined  will  appear 
in  the  following  chapter. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 


HREE  days  after  Madeline's  debut  at  the 
Musical  Fund  Hall,  Mrs.  Barling  re 
ceived  the  following  letter  from  Mrs. 
Windall. 

"  MY  DEAR  MKS.  BARLING  :  —  I  prom 
ised  to  write  you  fully  about  Mrs.  Jan- 
sen's  first  appearance.  After  a  magni 
ficent  debut  everything  has  failed.  I 
write  in  chagrin  and  disappointment 
beyond  what  I  can  express.  It  has  turned  out  as  I  feared. 
She  has  talent,  genius,  power;  but,  no  faith  in  herself — 
nothing  of  that  tenacity  of  character  so  essential  to  high 
achievement.  But,  let  me  come  down  to  the  plain  facts, 
and  tell  the  story  as  it  occurred.  On  arriving  in  Philadel 
phia,  we  took  rooms  at  the  United  States  Hotel  on  Chest 
nut  street,  and  I  immediately  renewed  my  acquaintance 
with  several  dear  old  friends,  of  high  social  position  and 
much  influence.  The  warmest  kind  of  interest  was  taken 
in  Mrs.  Jansen  or  rather  in  Mrs  Aberdeen,  the  name  by 


182  OUT   IN    THE    WOELD. 

which  she  was  introduced.  I  am  sorry  to  say,  that  she  did 
not  respond  with  anything  of  her  natural  grace,  vivacity, 
and  sweetness  of  temper  to  the  generous  interest  that 
every  one  manifested.  She  was  distant  and  cold  towards 
all  who  approached  her.  The  change  that  became  appar 
ent  from  the  time  of  our  arrival  in  Philadelphia  was  re 
markable.  From  the  beginning  of  my  acquaintance  with 
Mrs.  Jansen,  I  possessed  great  influence  over  her ;  but  that 
influence  was  strangely  broken  on  our  coming  here. 
It  seemed  as  though  a  new  spirit  had  taken  possession  of 
her,  which  I  had  no  power  to  exorcise. 

"  To  be  brief,  Mrs.  Jansen  lost  all  faith  in  herself.  She 
had  no  confidence  in  the  approaching  trial,  and  persistent 
ly  talked  of  failure.  Up  to  the  last  moment,  she  held 
back,  and  could  she  have  met  a  single  person  injudicious 
enough  to  utter  a  doubting  word,  would  have  refused  to 
confront  the  waiting  audience.  All  this  I  saw,  and  you 
may  be  sure  I  was  in  an  agony  of  suspense  and  fear. 

"  I  took  her  hand  as  we  ascended  from  the  waiting-room 
below.  It  was  like  ice,  and  had  a  low,  quick  shiver,  that 
sent  a  chill  along  my  nerves.  '  Courage ! '  I  whispered 
— '  you  stand  on  the  threshold  of  a  grand  success ! '  She 
made  no  response.  I  walked  out  with  her  upon  the  stage, 
holding  my  breath.  The  decisive  moment  had  come ;  I 
saw  her  shrink  in  the  presence  of  an  eagerly  expectant 
assembly,  and  my  heart  stood  still.  Another  moment,  and 
her  voice  swept  out  low  and  clear,  but  with  slight  falter 
ing.  My  heart  went  on  again.  I  was  assured.  Two  or 
three  sentences,  her  voice  steadily  rising,  and  then  she 
was  in  full  command  of  herself.  I  never  saw,  in  any  of 
our  most  successful  actors,  a  more  perfect  absorption  of 
self  in  the  impersonation  of  a  character  than  was  shown 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  183 

by  Mrs.  Janscn.  It  was  simple  inspiration  and  wonderful ! 
When  she  retired,  at  the  close  of  her  first  piece,  the  whole 
house  thundered  with  applause.  I  caught  her  hand  and 
wrungit  enthusiastically — I  filled  her  ears  with  praises  and 
congratulations  —  but  she  was  cold  and  dumb  as  a  stone. 
The  paleness  had  not  left  her  face  —  the  thrilling  shiver 
was  in  her  icy  hand.  She  sat  down,  her  lips  dropping 
apart,  and  remained  like  a  statue  until  the  waiting  audi 
ence  gave  signs  of  impatience ;  and  even  then,  I  had  to 
arouse  her  for  the  new  effort.  As  at  first  she  advanced  in 
the  face  of  the  audience  in  a  spiritless,  hesitating  manner ; 
but  she  was  all  life  and  energy  when  the  work,  from  which 
she  held  back  with  such  a  strange  reluctance,  began.  Her 
second  effort  was  better  than  the  first. 

" '  Glorious ! '  I  said,  as  1  put  my  arms  around  her  on  re 
ceiving  her  again  from  the  platform.  But  I  might  as  well 
have  spoken  to  an  image.  She  sat  down  as  before,  in  a 
dull,  despairing  kind  of  way,  wholly  irresponsive.  So  it 
continued  throughout  the  evening.  Before  the  audience 

o  o 

she  was  inspired,  electric,  passionate,  wonderful !  Out  of 
their  presence,  a  weak,  shiveririg,  frightened  child. 

" '  No  matter,'  I  said  to  myself,  as  we  rode  home  after 
her  triumph,  reviewing  in  thought  the  strange  contrast  of 
state  I  have  mentioned  — '  she  can  do  the  work,  and  that 
is  the  great  desideratum  —  how  she  does  it  is  a  thing  of 
minor  importance.  She  will  get  over  this  intense  nervous 
ness  in  time.  The  wonderful  success  of  to-night,  when 
she  comes  to  review  it,  will  give  her  a  large  measure  of 
confidence.  All  is  well !  Her  future  is  safe. 

"  But,  alas !  it  was  not  safe !  Arrived  at  the  hotel,  she 
went  immediately  to  her  room,  whither  I  accompanied 
her.  I  saw  that  she  was  much  exhausted,  and  urged  her 


184  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

to  take  a  glass  of  wine ;  but  she  refused  all  refreshment, 
and  desired  me  to  leave  her  at  once  alone.  I  did  not  think 
this  well,  seeing  in  what  a  nervous  condition  the  perform 
ance  had  left  her,  and  determined  to  remain  for  a  time.  But, 
recognizing  my  purpose,  she  turned  on  me  with  an  impe 
rious  manner,  such  as  I  had  never  seen  her  put  on  before, 
and  pushed  me,  by  will  and  words  stronger  than  hands, 
out  of  her  room.  I  had  a  glimpse  of  her  character  in 
that  moment  not  seen  before.  Her  husband  in  their  late 
quarrel,  which  led  to  a  separation,  was  not,  I  now  fancy,  all 
in  the  wrong.  There  is  a  slumbering  volcano  ill  her  heart, 
and  all  volcanos  have  their  periods  of  irruption. 

"My  room  adjoined  Mrs.  Jansen's.  For  two  whole 
hours,  I  sat  close  to  the  partition  which  separated  her 
chamber  from  mine,  listening  intently.  Not  a  sound 
reached  my  ears.  In  the  stillness  of  night,  the  respiration 
of  a  sleeper  may  be  heard  at  a  considerable  distance.  I 
hearkened  for  the  sighing  breath  of  Mrs.  Jansen,  with  my 
ear  against. the  partition;  but  all  was  still  as  death. 
About  twelve  o'clock  I  became  so  nervously  anxious,  that 
I  went  out  into  the  passage,  and  going  to  her  door,  knock 
ed  gently.  '  Who's  there  ? '  was  instantly  called  out,  in 
the  clear  tones  of  one  who  was  evidently  wide  awake. 
*  Are  you  sick  ? '  I  asked.  '  No,'  was  returned.  That 
4  No,'  was  as  full  of  repulsion  as  any  word  flung  at  me 
two  hours  before.  I  returned  to  my  room  and  went  to 
bed.  It  was  a  long  time  before  I  slept.  During  my 
wakeful  hours  I  still  listened  towards  Mrs.  Jansen's  apart 
ment  ;  but  the  silence  there  remained  unbroken. 

"  In  the  morning  when  I  awoke,  the  sun  was  shining 
brightly.  Looking  at  my  watch,  I  found  that  it  was  past 
seven  o'clock.  Hastily  dressing  myself,  listening  all  the 


OUT   IN   THE   WOELD.  185 

while  for  sounds  in  the  next  room,  but  hearing  no  move 
ment,  I  went  out  in  the  passage.  The  door  of  Mrs.  Jan- 
sen's  room  stood  ajar ;  I  pushed  it  open  and  went  in. 
Mrs.  Jansen,.was  dressed,  and  sitting  by  the  window. 
She  turned  towards  me  as  I  entered,  and  I  saw  that  her 
face  was  still  quite  pale.  Her  eyes  had  a  look  of  pui-pose 
in  them  that  in  no  way  lessened  the  uneasiness  I  felt. 

" '  How  are  you,  dear  ? '  I  asked,  with  all  the  affectionate 
interest  I  could  throw  into  my  voice  and  manner,  advanc 
ing  quickly  towards  her,  and  grasping  one  of  her  hands. 
I  stooped  to  kiss  her,  but  she  turned  her  head,  and  refused 
the  salutation.  Her  hand  gave  back  no  pressure. 

"  '  Very  well, '  she  replied,  coldly. 

" '  Have  you  slept  soundly  ? ' 

" '  No,'  she  said,  without  change  in  the  dead  level  of 
her  voice. 

"  '  You  are  refreshed.  The  exhaustion  of  last  night  has 
passed  away,'  I  continued. 

"  *  In  a  measure,'  she  returned,  with  the  same  indifference 
of  manner. 

" '  Let  me  repeat  my  congratulations  at  your  triumphant 
success  last  night,'  .1  said,  coming  to  what  was  nearest  my 
heart. 

" '  Rather,'  she  replied,  *  at  my  escape  from  failure  and 
humiliation.'  She  spoke  calmly  —  I  might  say,  coldly, 
turning  towards  me,  and  looking  at  me  in  full  self-posses 
sion.  'The  success  was  not  anything  of  mine.' 

" '  Whose  was  it,  pray  ? '  I  asked,  in  surprise  at  her  ap 
pearance  and  language. 

"'I  know  not,'  she  answered,  'but  this  I  know,  that  it 
was  not  Madeline  Jansen  who  held  that  audience  as  in  a 
spell,  and  extorted  admiration  and  applause.  In  outward 


186  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

person  she  stood  in  face  of  the  assembly,  and  her  tongue, 
voice  and  body  were  instrumentalities,  but  not  her  con 
scious  soul.' 

"  *  What  folly  to  talk  thus,'  I  said,  interrupting  her  — 
* you  are  giving  yourself  to  a  wild  fancy.' 

"'No.'  How  cool  and  self-poised  she  was!  'No,  not 
this  morning.  I  have  left  the  region  of  wild  fancies,  and 
possess  my  reason.  All  night  I  have  pondered  this  mat 
ter,  and  my  conclusion  is  reached.' 

" '  What  is  your  conclusion  ? '  I  inquired,  in  painful  sus 
pense,  for  both  her  manner  and  her  language  were  troubling 
me. 

" '  Never  again  to  appear  before  an  audience,'  she  answer 
ed,  and  I  saw  and  felt  that  her  decision  was  final.  There 
are  occasions  when  the  purpose  so  writes  itself  in  the  face 
that  mistake  is  impossible.  I  was  too  much  confounded 
to  speak,  and  she  went  on.  '  It  is  due  to  you,  after  all  the 
trouble  and  expense  to  which  you  have  been  subjected, 
that  I  give  plain  reasons  for  what  I  have  declared.  The 
chief  reason,  I  have  already  intimated.  To  proceed  is  to 
fail.  Last  night's  success  came  from  unknown  and  intang 
ible  causes.  I  was  like  one  seized  by  a  superior  being,  and 
made  to  act  from  his  strength  and  volition.  In  nothing 
that  occurred  can  I  recall  myself —  can  I  recognize  my 
own  skill,  perception,  indentity.  I  was  lost  — passive  — 
possessed  —  anything  that  you  will ;  but  not  myself.  To 
venture  on  this  ground  again  would  be  folly,  and  I  have 
as  the  result  of  a  night's  reflection  determined  not  to  ven 
ture  again.  It  will  be  useless  for  you  to  argue  the  point 
with  me ;  I  have  resolved,  and  my  resolution  is  final.' 

"I  made  no  attempt  to  move  her  from  the  purpose 
she  had  expressed ;  I  felt  that  it  would  be  useless.  Our 


OUT   IN    THE   WOKLT).  187 

relation  to  each  other  had  undergone  a  sudden  and  re 
markable  change.  A  little  while  before,  and  I  was  con 
scious  of  an  almost  complete  influence  over  her  —  she  was 
passive  to  my  will.  Now  she  stood  like  one  afar  ofl^  whom 
I  tried  vainly  to  reach  and  influence.  She  seemed  lifted 
out  of  my  sphere  of  action  —  removed  to  a  distance  —  set 
in  a  way  wherein  my  feet  were  not  to  walk. 

"  What  do  you  purpose  doing  ?  "  I  asked. 

"'I  have  no  settled  purpose  beyond  the  one  expressed 
just  now.  Time  will  show  the  ways  wherein  I  must  go. 
There  are  paths  for  all  feet.' 

"I  left  her  and  went  back  to  my  own  room,  that  I 
might  consider  the  case,  and  arrive  at  some  conclusion. 
I  am  not  one  to  abandon  a  line  of  conduct  because  difficul 
ties  rise  up  in  the  way.  If  I  cannot  climb  over  a  hill,  I  gen 
erally  manage  to  get  around  it.  But  I  did  not  get  over  nor 
around  this  obstructing  mountain.  When  I  looked  again 
i»to  Mrs.  Jansen's  room  she  was  not  there.  Going  down, 
I  found  her  in  the  ladies'  parlor.  Approaching,  I  sat 
down  near  her — near  her  as  to  person  ;  but  in  my  soul  I 
felt  that  she  was  at  an  immeasurable  distance  from  me  — 
that  a  gulf  had  fallen  between  us  which  it  was  impossible 
to  bridge.  I  wished  to  refer  again  to  the  last  night's  suc 
cess  —  to  feel  on  that  subject  once  more  into  her  mind. 
But  I  could  not  utter  a  word  bearing  on  this  theme.  The 
sentences  formed  in  my  thought  were  scattered  like  clouds 
in  the  wind  ere  expression  could  take  them,  instead,  an 
inward  voice  uttered  for  me  the  words  — '  Our  ways  part 
here!' 

"  And  there,  my  friend,  they  parted.  We  held  only  a 
brief  aud  distant  communication,  as  if  we  were  two  stran 
gers  sojourning  at  the  hotel.  After  breakfast  she  went 


188  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

out  alone,  and  did  not  return  for  some  hours.  In  the  after 
noon  she  went  out  again.  I  noticed,  when  she  came  back 
towards  evening,  a  troubled  and  disappointed  look  in  her 
face ;  but  I  asked  her  no  questions,  for  I  felt  that  it  would 
be  useless. 

"  The  actual  result  of  the  evening's  entertainment  was 
a  loss.  At  least  one-third  of  the  audience  came  on  com 
plimentary  tickets,  which  were  freely  distributed,  in  order 
to  get  the  prestige  of  a  good  house.  Much  was  thrown 
away  at  the  beginning  in  order  to  reach  a  final  success. 
There  are  printing  bills  to  pay,  and  other  expenses  to  meet} 
for  which  I  am,  unfortunately,  not  in  funds.  To-morrow 
I  shall  leave  Philadelphia,  and  return  to  your  house  for 
a  brief  season.  I  have  a  hundred  things  I  wish  to  say. 
Mrs.  Jansen's  conduct  in  the  matter  is  bad,  consider  it  as 
you  will.  She  has  caused  me  to  waste  a  great  deal  of 
time,  and  now  involves  me  in  pecuniary  embarrassment 
among  strangers.  I  am  distressed  and  mortified  at  the 
result.  But  she  doesn't  seem  to  care  a  farthing.  She  is 
responsible  for  nothing. 

"  But  I  will  be  with  you  in  a  day  or  two ;  so  adieu  for 
the  present. 

"  AGNES  WIND  ALL." 

"P.  S.  —  Since  writing  last  evening,  Mrs.  Jansen  has 
disappeared  from  the  hotel.  She  paid  her  bill  early  this 
morning,  and  left  in  a  carnage  before  I  was  up.  No  one  in 
the  office  or  about  the  hotel  could  give  me  any  information 
in  regard  to  her.  After  breakfast,  through  the  assistance 
of  a  porter  in  the  establishment,  I  discovered  the  hackman 
with  whom  she  went  away ;  I  learned  from  him  that  he 
had  taken  her  to  the  lauding  at  Walnut-street  wharf  in  time 


OUT   IN   THE    WOELD.  189 

for  the  six  o'clock  New  York  train.  I  have  changed  my 
mind  about  returning  at  once  to  Jersey  City.  Some 
friends  here  are  very  anxious  that  I  shall  remain  with 
them  for  a  few  weeks,  and  I  am  inclined  to  yield  to  their 
importunities.  But  I  trust  to  see  you  very  shortly.  Mean 
time,  I  will  write  you  often. 

«  A.  W." 


CHAPTER  XX. 


RS.  Woodbine  was  entertaining  some 
friends  in  her  parlor,  when  a  servant 
came  in  and  said  there  was  a  lady  in 
the  hall  who  wished  to  speak  to  her. 
It  was  Mrs.  Jansen.  She  stood, 
shrinking  near  the  vestibule  door. 
Mrs.  Woodbine  met  her  with  a  cold 
ly  polite  air,  very  much  as  she  would 
have  met  a  stranger  who  had  called 
to  ask  a  servant's  character.  She  did 
not  even  offer  her  hand  to  Madeline, 
on  whose  part  there  was  as  reserved  and  distant  a  man 
ner. 

"  Have  you  a  letter  for  me  ?  "  A  sadness  crept  into  the 
speaker's  voice  in  spite  of  her  effort  to  seem  calmly  indif- 
erent. 

Mrs.  Woodbine  shook  her  head. 
"  No  communication  of  any  kind  ?  " 
"None." 
In  a  half  hesitating,  half  lingering  way,  Mrs.  Jansen 


OUT  IN   THE   WOELD.  191 

stood  for  some  moments,  then  moving  back  into  the  vesti- 
ble,  she  said  — 

"Good  morning." 

"  Good  morning,"  returned  Mrs.  Woodbine ;  and  the 
vestibule  door  shut  on  the  retiring  visitor. 

This  was  on  the  day  after  Mrs.  Jansen  left  Philadelphia. 

"  Who  do  you  think  it  was  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Woodbine,  on 
returning  to  the  parlor. 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  two  or  three  ladies  at  once. 

"  Mrs.  Jansen." 

«No!" 

«  Yes." 

"  Why  didn't  you  ask  her  in  ?  " 

Mrs.  Woodbine  shut  her  lips,  looked  painfully  myste 
rious,  and  shook  her  head  slowly. 

"  Anything  wrong  about  her  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  so." 

"  What  have  you  heard  ?  " 

"  Nothing  that  you  can  just  put  your  hands  on.  But, 
I've  had  hints  and  intimations ;  a  word  here  and  a  word 
there  which,  all  put  together,  have  an  unpleasant  look.  She 
hasn't  fallen  into  the  right  kind  of  company  —  whether 
this  be  her  fault  or  her  misfortune,  I  cannot  say.  The  fact 
is  so  far  against  her.  We  judge  of  people,  you  know,  by 
their  companions." 

"  What  did  she  want  ?  " 

Mrs.  Woodbine  lifted  her  eyebrows 

"  A  letter  from  her  husband." 
"  You  are  jesting." 

"  No.  '  Have  you  a  letter  for  me  ? '  That  was  her 
question.  I  will  explain.  Six  months  ago,  as  you  are 
aware,  she  left  her  husband.  I  was  her  friend,  and  opposed 
her  in  every  possible  way ;  but  she  was  stubborn  and  self- 


192  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

willed,  and  would  listen  to  no  reason.  In  going  away  from 
her  husband,  she  wrote  him  a  letter,  in  which  she  said, 
that  unless  he  sent  for  her  to  come  back,  she  would  never 
return.  My  house  was  given  as  the  place  where  any  com 
munication  would  reach  her.  She  had,  I  can't  understand 
why,  counted  on  making  it  her  head  quarters  !  But  she 
was  doomed  to  disappointment  in  that.  Her  call  to-day 
shows,  that  she  still  clings  to  the  hope  of  hearing  from  her 
husband.  But,  her  hope  is  vain.  He  is  just  as  strong- 
willed  as  Mrs.  Jansen.  I  warned  her  that  she  was  play 
ing  a  desperate  game,  with  all  the  chances  against  her 
It  has  come  out  as  I  expected." 

"  When  was  she  here  last  ?  " 

"  About  three  months  ago." 

"Where  has  she  been,  during  the  time  ?" 

"  Can't  say." 

"  Away  from  the  city  ?  " 

"  Possible."  Mrs.  Woodbine  affected  to  know  more  than 
she  cared  to  divulge. 

«  How  did  she  look  ?  " 

«  Badly." 

"  In  what  respect  ?  " 

"Her  face  was  much  thinner  than  I  had  ever  seen  it, 
and  had  an  anxious  expression.  She  looked  ten  years 
older  than  she  appeared  on  the  day  she  left  her  husband. 
She  always  dressed  elegantly,  as  you  are  aware.  The 
contrast  in  her  appearance  to-day  was  painful.  She  had 
on  a  dark  straw  bonnet,  with  plain  brown  trimming ;  a 
merino  dress,  and  a  cloth  mantle  that  had  seen  considera 
ble  service.  Almost  any  one  would  have  passed  her  in 
the  street  for  a  servant." 

"  How  has  the  mighty  fallen !    And  yet,  I  pity  her  from 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  193 

my  heart,"  said  one  of  the  ladies.     Her  husband  is  a  brute, 
I  am  told." 

"  No,"  answered  Mrs.  Woodbine.  "  Not  a  brute.  That 
word  expresses  to  much.  He  is,  like  most  men,  a  self- 
sufficient  tyrant,  and  looks  down  upon  a  woman  as  an  in 
ferior  being.  If  his  wife  had  not  been  a  silly,  self-willed 
little  fool,  she  might  have  got  along  with  him.  But,  she 
was  too  proud  to  bend  the  tenth  part  of  a  degree  out  of 
her  fine  perpendicularity.  She  would  not  stoop  to  man 
age  him  —  O  no !  Home,  happiness,  reputation  before 
the  world,  were  nothing  in  her  eyes  when  set  in  oppo 
sition  to  her  pride.  No  bending  for  her.  She  would 
stand  erect  or  break,  and  so  she  broke.  Well,  I  have 
no  patience  with  such  people.  Faithfully,  as  in  duty 
bound,  I  warned  and  remonstrated ;  but  she  let  my  words 
pass  as  the  idle  winds.  Now  she  must  go  her  own  way ; 
and  I  fancy  she  will  find  it  rougher  than  was  imagined." 

Slowly  Mrs.  Jausen  descended  the  steps,  up  which  she 
had  gone  a  few  moments  before,  with  a  faint  hope  glim 
mering  in  her  mind.  That  hope  was  dead !  Slowly  she 
moved  away,  her  veil  drawn  closely  about  her  face.  At 
the  next  corner  she  found  herself  face  to  face  with  her 
husband.  Suddenly  her  feet  stood  still.  The  power  of 
motion  was  gone.  But,  her  dress  and  thick  veil  proved  a 
complete  disguise.  He  passed  her,  without  a  pause.  His 
name  was  on  her  lips.  Under  a  wild  impulse  she  tried  to 
call  after  him.  But  her  tongue  was,  for  the  instant,  par 
alyzed.  Standing,  moveless  as  an  image,  she  gazed  after 
his  receding  form,  until  it  was  lost  to  sight ;  then,  with 
hard  shut  mouth,  deathly  pale  face,  and  hands  clenched  so 
tightly  that  the  nails  almost  cut  the  flesh,  she  passed  on 
her  indeterminate  way. 
9 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


WILL  give  her  one  year  to  repent  and 
return." 

On  the  third  day  after  Madeline's  de 
parture,  Carl  Jansen  had  reached  this  de 
cision.  It  meant,  that  he  would  not  break 
up  their  home  until  twelve  months  had 
expired. 

"  The  door  shall  not  be  fastened  against 
her;  but,  if  it  opens  to  let  her  in,  her  own 
hand  must  give  the  pressure.     She  went 
out  of  her  own  will ;  and  of  her  own  will 
she  must  return." 

To  this  purpose,  feeling  and  thought  had  crystallized.  3 
The  year  had  closed.  It  found  Jansen  with  clearly 
visible  pain-marks  on  his  face.  Cold,  resolute,  self-approv 
ing,  he  had  kept  to  his  decision  without  wavering  until 
the  full  period  given  to  his  wife  had  expired ;  but  it  was 
not  in  human  nature  to  go  through  such  a  year  without 
intense  suffering.  He  had  taken  many  draughts  from  a 
bitter  cup,  and  the  drugged  portion  had  fevered  his  blood 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  195 

in  heart  and  brain.  The  loneliness,  the  desolation  of 
hope,  the  restless  disquietude,  the  doubt,  the  questionings, 
the  uncertainty  of  this  period,  Avould  have  left  disfiguring 
signs  on  one  of  sterner  stuff  than  Carl  Jansen. 

The  year  had  closed.  Nothing  had  been  changed,  as  to 
the  external  order  of  things,  in  the  household,  during  all 
that  time.  Not  a  drawer  or  wardrobe  belonging  to  Mad 
eline  had  been  meddled  with.  If  she  had  returned,  on 
any  day  of  the  year,  she  would  have  found  everything  that 
was  personally  her  own,  just  where  she  had  left  it.  But, 
the  fixed  time  had  closed.  No  matter  what  change  of  feel 
ing  had  taken  place  with  Jansen  towards  his  wife ;  no  mat 
ter  as  to  what  evil-hearted  rumor  had  reported  ;  no  matter 
as  to  how  far  belief  had  accepted  slander;  up  to  the  last 
clay  and  hour,  he  remained  true  to  his  first  intention  —  "I 
will  give  her  one  year  to  repent  and  return." 

The  year  had  closed,  and  now  there  Tiiust  come  a 
change.  This  state  of  things  was  no  longer  possible.  He 
must  destroy  this  marred  and  desecrated  temple  which 
had  been  erected  to  the  household  gods  —  must  pull  down 
these  altars  from  which  the  holy  fires  had  long  ago  depart 
ed.  Through  the  last  night  of  the  last  day,  nothing  was 
disturbed.  A  vague,  restless  pause  in  Jansen's  life,  seemed 
like  the  shadow  of  that  coming  presence  for  which  through 
a  long  year  he  had  waited.  Up  to  the  final  instant  of 
grace,  he  would  keep  the  door  of  entrance  unfastened. 
Bat,  all  was  at  last  over.  A  new  day  in  the  new  year  of 
his  fate  began  ;  and  the  door  was  barred  ! 

Three  large  trunks,  locked  and  strapped  down,  contain 
ed  at  the  clos  e  of  this  day  all  the  clothing  and  personal 
effects  of  Madeline,  once  the  beloved  wife  of  Carl  Jansen, 
now  self-repudiated,  and  a  wanderer  out  in  the  world ; 


196  OPT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

where,  and  under  what  circumstances,  the  husband  knew 
not.  Upon  their  contents,  he  had  gazed  for  the  last  time. 
Nothing  would  ever  induce  him  again  to  touch  or  look  upon 
the  garments  in  which  she  had  often  appeared  so  beautiful 
iu  his  eyes.  He  had  shivered  with  many  sudden  ague-fits, 
as  one  article  after  another,  passing  under  his  hands,  had 
quickened  bright  memories  of  the  past,  and  set  the  beau 
tiful  being  he  had  once  clasped  with  such  tender  joy  to 
his  heart  against  a  back  ground  of  all  things  pure  and 
lovely. 

The  purpose  of  Jansen  was,  to  send  these  trunks  to 
Madeline ;  and  now,  for  the  first  time  since  her  abandon 
ment  of  home,  he  began  making  inquiries  in  regard  to  her. 
With  an  almost  business-like  coldness  of  purpose,  he  set 
tled  in  his  mind  the  proper  methods  of  procedure,  and 
then  went  to  work  systematically.  First,  he  called  on 
Mrs.  Woodbine.  That  lady  gave  him  a  courteous  recep 
tion,  and  freely  answered  all  his  inquiries  ;  but  could  give 
no  information  as  to  Madeline's  present  abode. 

"  When  did  you  last  see  or  hear  from  her  ?  "  asked  Jan- 
sen. 

"  I  have  neither  seen  her,  nor  heard  from  her  in  six 
months.  In  fact,  sir,  she  has  kept  away  from  me  ever  since 
she  took  that  fatal  step.  Before,  her  visits  were  frequent. 
But,  I  did  not  approve  the  course  she  was  taking,  and 
urged  her  so  strongly  to  go  back,  that  she  became  offend 
ed." 

"  You  saw  her  six  months  ago  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  She  called  here  one  day  about  that  time." 

"  Ah  !     For  what  purpose  ?  " 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  197 

"  To  ask  if  there  was  a  letter  for  her." 

w  A  letter !  Did  she  receive  letters  directed  to  your 
care  ?  " 

"  None  ever  came  here  for  her." 

"  From  whom  did  she  expect  a  letter  ?  " 

"  From  you." 

"  From  me  ! "  The  surprise  on  Mr.  Jansen's  part  was 
not  feigned. 

"Yes,  sir.  "When  she  went  away  from  home,  she  left  a 
letter,  so  she  told  me,  in  which  she  informed  you,  that  if 
you  would  write  to  her  and  say  '  Come  back,'  she  would 
return.  She  fully  counted,  I  think,  on  your  taking  her  at 
her  word.  She  expected  a  letter,  and  the  invitation  to 
come  back.  For  full  six  months,  as  is  plain  from  her  call 
ing  here,  did  she  cherish  this  hope." 

A  deep,  irrepressible  sigh,  struggled  up  from  the  breast 
of  Carl  Jansen.  He  sat  very  still  and  silent  for  some  mo 
ments,  his  face  turned  partly  away  from  Mrs.  Woodbine, 
who  was  observing  him  with  the  keen  eye  of  a  curious  wo 
man. 

"  In  which  she  was  doomed  to  disappointment,"  he  said, 
in  a  low,  husky  voice,  speaking  as  if  to  himself. 

"  Bitter,  heart-aching  disappointment,"  said  Mrs.  Wood 
bine. 

"You  think  so?"  Jansen  looked  up  almost  with  a 
start. 

"  I  know  it.  Nothing  but  pride  kept  her  from  going 
back.  If  you  had  opened  the  door  for  her,  even  so  much 
as  an  inch,  she  would  have  crowded  through.  You  were 
too  hard  and  unyielding,  Mr.  Jansen.  You  did  not  under 
stand  the  woman  you  had  asked,  in  her  tender,  confiding 
girlhood  to  become  your  wife.  Sfie  was  loving  and  true, 


198  OUT   IN   THE   WOKLD. 

but  proud  and  self-willed.  You  should  have  considered 
the  whole  of  her  character  —  should  have  let  the  good 
overbalance  defect.  It  was  a  hard  thing  in  you  as  her 
husband,  to  drive  her  as  you  did  to  desperation.  Before 
heaven,  sir,  you  are  not  guiltless  in  this  matter !  If  she 
suffer  harm,  a  cast-out  and  a  wanderer  in  this  hard  and 
evil  world,  something  of  the  sin  will  lie  at  your  door. 
Pardon  this  plain  speech,  Mr.  Jansen ;  but  I  am  an  out 
spoken  woman;  and  it  may  be  well  for  you  to  know  what 
others  think  of  your  conduct." 

"  By  my  own  act  I  am  willing  to  stand  or  fall,"  replied 
Mr.  Jansen,  with  slight  signs  of  displeasure.  "  A  husband 
may,  surely,  have  freedom  to  approve  or  disapprove  of  his 
wife's  conduct ;  and  even  to  speak  strongly  if  she  set 
herself  defiantly  against  him.  I  did  no  more  than  this 
—  and  simply  for  this  she  went  away,  thinking  to  force 
me  into  concession  which  no  man  with  a  true,  manly 
character  will  ever  make.  Of  her  own  will  she  left  her 
home.  The  door  was  not  locked  against  her.  At  any  time 
within  the  last  twelve  months  she  could  have  returned. 
She  had  only  to  push  open  the  door  she  had  closed 
herself.  But,  not  choosing  to  do  so  —  not  willing  to  bend 
the  neck  of  her  self-will  —  she  remained  on  the  outside. 
Who  is  to  blame  ?  Not  Carl  Jansen  !  His  conscience  is 
clear  on  that  head.  But,  excuse  me,  Mrs.  Woodbine,  I 
had  rather  not  go  on  with  this  discussion.  The  argument 
will  be  fruitless  on  either  side.  Madeline  called  here,  you 
say,  about  six  months  ago  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  And  asked  for  a  letter?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Had  you  any  conversation  with  her  at  the  time  ?  " 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  199 

"  None.  The  interview  was  brief.  She  did  not  come 
in." 

"Do  you  know  where  she  went,  after  leaving  your 
house  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 

"  Have  you  heard  of  her  since  ?  " 

"  Nothing  directly." 

"What  indirectly?" 

Mrs.  Woodbine  thought  for  a  little  while 

"It  must  be  over  three  months  ago,  that  I  heard  a  lady 
say  that  she  met  her,  or  a  person  singularly  like  her,  on 
one  of  the  Albany  boats  going  up  the  river." 

"  And  beyond  this,  you  know  nothing  ?  " 

"Nothing  at  all,  Mr.  Jansen." 

"  Perhaps  you  know  of  some  one  who  might  be  able  to 
give  me  the  clue  for  which  I  am  seeking." 

"  She  was,  for  a  while,  very  intimate  with  a  woman 
named  Mrs.  Windall ;  and,  I  am  told,  went  away  from  the 
city  with  her  seven  or  eight  months  ago." 

«  Who  is  Mrs.  Windall  ?  " 

"  Not  a  very  good  kind  of  person,  I  regret  to  say.  She 
is  an  adventurer,  and,  I  think,  attached  herself  to  your 
wife  in  the  hope  of  using  her  in  some  way  to  her  own  ad 
vantage.  It  was  intimated,  at  one  time,  that  she  was 
training  Mrs.  Jansen  for  a  public  reader,  or  to  go  on  the 
stage.  Indeed,  the  story  runs,  that  a  public  reading  was 
given  in  Boston  or  Philadelphia.  But,  I  cannot  vouch 
for  this." 

"How  can  I  find  Mrs.  Windall?" 

"  She  has  not  been  seen  in  New  York  for  a  long  time." 

"  Is  tKere  any  one  who  is  likely  to  know  her  address  ?  " 

"  She  staid  for  awhile,  I  believe,  with  a  Mrs.  Barling,  in 


200  OUT   IN   THE    WOKLD. 

Jersey  City.  Your  wife  was  there  also,  now  that  I  remem 
ber.  Mrs,  Windall  and  Mrs.  Barling  trained  her,  so  I 
have  hear3,  for  elocutionary  readings." 

"Do  you  knoAV  Mrs.  Barling's  exact  location  in  Jei'sey 
City?" 

« I  do  not." 

Mr.  Jansen  went  away,  feeling  less  comfortable  in  mind 
than  when  he  called.  Some  tilings  said  by  Mrs.  Wood- 
byie  went  down  to  sore  places  and  hurt ;  and  some  things 
disturbed  the  self-approving  states  which  he  had  formed. 
He  was  not  so  well  satisfied  with  himself —  not  so  sure 
that  he  had  been  altogether  right  in  his  dealings  with 
Madeline. 

His  interview  with  Mrs.  Barling  did  not  help  his  state 
of  mind.  She  corroborated  what  Mrs.  Woodbine  had  sug 
gested,  and  gave  him  the  particulars  of  Madeline's  appear 
ance  at  the  Musical  Fund  Hall  in  Philadelphia.  In  fact, 
read  to  him  the  letter  of  Mi-s.  Windall,  in  which  she  gave 
a  description  of  Madeline's  brilliant  success,  and  subse 
quent  disappearance.  As  Mrs.  Jansen  did  not  return  to 
her  house,  nor  communicate  with  her,  Mrs.  Barling  could 
not  furnish  any  present  information  in  regard  to  Madeline. 
Nor  was  she  able  to  give  the  address  of  Mrs.  Windall. 

Next  he  called  upon  Mrs.  Lawrence,  in  Brooklyn.  To 
his  inquiry  as  to  when  she  had  seen  his  wife,  he  received 
the  answer  — 

"  She  was  here  in  the  Spring." 

"  How  long  did  she  remain  ?  " 

"  Only  an  hour  or  two." 

"  Have  you  met  with  her  since  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 

"  Do  you  know  where  she  is  at  this  present  time  ?  " 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  201 

.  Lawrence  answered  in  the  negative,  farther  remark 
ing,  that  she  believed  it  was  her  intention  to  leave  the 
city.  "  She  was  not  communicative,"  Mrs.  Lawrence  said. 
"  I  pressed  her  with  questions  as  to  her  future ;  but  all 
her  answers  were  vague.  I  do  not  think  she  had  any  set- 
tied  plans.  She  was  very  unhappy.  My  heart  ached  for 
her.  What  have  you  heard,  Mr.  Jansen  ?  " 

"  Nothing !  She  has  never  had  any  communication 
with  me  since  she  went  away.  I  am  entirely  ignorant  of 
her  condition  or  locality.  My  present  desire  is,  to,  get  hex 
address,  in  order  to  send  her  three  trunks  containing  her 
clothing  and  personal  effects.  If  you  should  learn  any 
thing  about  her,  will  you  be  kind  enough  to  let  me  know  ?  " 

"  If  I  hear  of  her,  you  shall  know  it  immediately,"  said 
Mrs.  Lawrence. 

Observing  a  certain  sternness  in  Mr.  Jansen,  amounting 
almost  to  anger  towards  his  wife,  this  kind,  true  friend,  of 
the  unhappy  woman  felt  called  upon  to  say  a  word  for  her 
early  and  beloved  companion. 

"I  do  not  wish  to  intrude  upon  you,"  she  said,  "in  a 
matter  so  painful  and  delicate  ;  but  you  must  permit  me 
to  speak  in  favor  of  one  whom  I  have  known  intimately 
and  loved  tenderly." 

Mr.  Jansen  knit  his  cold  brows,  but  Mi-s.  Lawrence  went 
on. 

"  There  is  among  most  men  and  women,  a  bad  inclina 
tion  to  suppose  evil  instead  of  good,  —  to  give  to  each 
other's  acts  the  worst  instead  of  the  best  interpretation. 
I  trust  you  are  keeping  this  in  mind.  Arwoman  standing 
to  society  in  Mrs.  Jansen's  unfortunate  relation,  would  be 
evil  spoken  of,  were  she  as  pure  as  an  angel.  Don't  forget 
this,  and  if  any  evil  surmise,  or  positive  assertion  of  wrong, 
9* 


202  OUT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

comes  to  your  <?ars,  do  not  give  credence.  She  erred  sad 
ly  in  leaving  her  home.  As  to  the  extent  of  mutual  blame, 
I  know  nothing ;  but  I  will  not  believe  her  to  have  been 
all  wrong  and  you  all  right.  I  must  say  this  in  cause  of 
my  friend,  and  of  my  sex.  A  woman  of  her  pure,  true 
and  loving  nature,  would  never  have  broken  away  so  mad 
ly  from  a  home  in  which  all  material  good  abounded,  if 
there  had  not  been  laid  upon  her  some  things  intolerable 
to  be  borne." 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  Mr.  Jansen,  rising.  "  The  past  is 
past,  and  we  will  not  uncover  it.  I  understand  my  own 
position  thoroughly,  and,  of  course,  better  than  you  or 
any  one  else  can  understand  it.  My  conscience  is  clear 
in  the  matter." 

"  Nay,  excuse  me,  sir !  Sit  down  again,  and  hear  me 
for  my  friend,"  answered  Mrs.  Lawrence,  with  that  mild 
resolution  which  subdues  quicker  than  anger.  "I  will 
not  be  rude  nor  insulting.  "What  I  desire  is,  to  speak  for 
her  on  the  side  of  kindness  and  charity.  Thei'e  will  be 
enough  to  whisper  detraction  —  to  suggest  evil  —  to  as 
sert  as  facts  the  mere  creations  of  a  vile  fancy.  For  a 
night  and  a  day  she  was  with  me  after  leaving  your  house. 
I  looked  away  down  in  her  heart,  and  scanned  it  with  a 
jealous  fear  that  something  evil  might  be  lurking  there, 
—  something  disloyal  to  her  husband,  I  mean,  and  to  her 
marriage  vows.  I  found  pride  and  self-will,  but  not  impu 
rity —  not  disloyalty.  These  were  her  words.  I  shall 
not  soon  forget  them.  She  said,  'As  a  wife  and  equal,  I 
will  cling  to  my  husband  through  good  and  evil  report  — 
in  sickness,  poverty,  disgrace  —  under  any  and  all  circum 
stances  of  outside  wrong  and  oppression.  His  love  would 
bind  me  by  cords  impossible  to  be  broken.'  Again  sho 


OUT   IN    THE    WOULD.  203 

t 

said,  *  If  my  husband  writes  to  me,  and  says,  simply,  Come 
back,  I  will  accept  it  gladly  as  an  evidence  that  I  am  to 
live  with  him  as  an  equal.  If  he  does  not  ask  my  return 
—  will  not  concede  anything  —  then  the  die  is  cast  —  we 
stand  apart  forever.'  Ah,  sir,  not  to  many  men  are  giv 
en  a  woman  of  her  high  quality.  Alas !  that  you  did 
not  comprehend  her.  As  your  loving  equal,  she  would 
have  stood  up  by  your  side,  brave  and  strong,  amid  the 
direst  calamities  —  a  wife  of  whom  the  proudest  might  be 
proud.  If  you  could  have  had  faith  in  her  —  if  you  could 
have  understood  her,  and  wisely  forborne  where  opposi 
tion  could  only  blind  !  She  was  not  perfect.  Are  you 
and  I  ?  But  she  was  loving,  and  pure,  and  true.  Let 
evil  tongues  speak  what  they  may  ;  all  are  liars  who  touch 
her  name  with  a  vile  word !  I  who  knew  her  as  girl  and 
Avoman  ;  I  who  have  looked  down  deeper  into  her  heart, 
as  to  some  of  its  hidden  chambers,  than  even  her  husband, 
say  this  boldly  in  the  face  of  all.  Ah,  sir !  she  has  taken 
up  a  heavy  burden  ;  and,  in  all  your  thought  of  her  in  the 
time  to  come,  Mr.  Jansen,  do  not  forget  that  your  hands 
helped  to  make  that  burden,  nor  that  a  single  word  from 
your  lips  would  have  lifted  it  from  her  shoulders.  My 
heart  so  aches  for  her,  that  I  say  boldly  under  the  excite 
ment  of  pain  what  otherwise  could  not  have  pased  my 
lips.  O,  sir !  Let  me  conjure  you  to  bend  a  little  from 
your  high  position.  Will  you  not  say  to  her  those  two 
little  words  for  which  I  know  she  has  been  all  the  time 
thirsting  in  this  desert  of  her  life  — '  Come  back  ? '  They 
would  thrill  through  her  desolate  soul !  By  all  that  is  sa 
cred  in  life,  I  implore  you  to  speak  those  words ! " 

"  It  is  too  late  !  "  answered  Carl  Jansen  ;  the  sternness 
of  manner  he  strove  to  assume  broken  and  veiled  by  con- 


204  OUT   IN    THE    WOULD. 

flicting  emotions.  For  several  painful  moments  the  hus 
band  and  friend  of  Madeline  stood  gazing  into  each  other's 
eyes.  Then  the  interview  closed.  Silently  bowing  Jan- 
sen  retired.  He  had  not  felt  so  miserable  since  the  day  of 
Madeline's  departure. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


EEKS  gathered  themselves  into 
months,  but  no  tidings  of  his  wife 
came  to  Carl  Jansen.  All  inquiry 
proved  fruitless.  She  had  dropped 
away  from  public  observation,  like 
a  pebble  in  the  sea,  and  not  even  a 
ripple  was  left  to  guide  the  search 
er. 

Jansen  did  not  hesitate  in  the 
work  of  dismembering  his  home. 
At  a  public  sale,  everything  was  dis 
persed,  not  an  article  being  left  to  remind  him  of  a  deso 
lated  pai-adise.  Madeline's  three  trunks  were  stored,  in 
order  to  be  sent  whenever  the  place  of  her  retirement  was 
discovered.  Previous  to  this,  no  very  marked  change  had 
appeared  in  Jansen.  He  was  only  a  little  graver  in  man 
ner.  The  excitement  always  attendant  on  a  state  of  un 
certainty,  had  kept  him  up.  But,  now  that  all  this  wait 
ing  and  uncertainty  were  over,  —  now  that  he  had  taken 
down  the  household  altar,  and  dispersed  its  broken  frag- 


206  OUT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

ments — he  experienced  a  sense  of  desolation  that  was  al 
most  intolerable.  The  foundation  upon  which  he  had 
builded  his  temple  of  earthly  happiness  was  removed ; 
the  temple  was  gone ;  and  he  was  out  in  the  sun  and  storm, 
shelterless.  Every  one  noticed  a  change  in  Carl  Jansen 
after  this.  Inward  working  pain  cut  its  signs  upon  his 
features.  He  was  reserved  beyond  his  wont — absent 
minded  —  shy  of  company.  This  state  continued  for 
over  a  year,  during  which  period  no  intelligence  came  to 
him  of  Madeline.  He  had  long  ceased  to  make  any  in 
quiries  in  regard  to  her. 

About  this  time  he  caused  notice  of  a  suit  for  divorce 
to  be  given.  The  plea  was  desertion.  No  response  came  ; 
and  in  due  legal  course  the  marriage  contract  was  annulled. 
So  far  as  external  bonds  were  concerned,  Carl  Jansen 
stood  free  again.  But  was  he  conscious  of  interior  free 
dom?  Did  all  stand  with  him  as  it  had  stood  before  his 
promise  in  the  sight  of  heaven,  to  love  and  cherish  Mad 
eline  so  long  as  life  should  last  ?  Was  she  really  nothing 
to  him  now,  more  than  any  other  woman  ?  Could  he 
think  of  her  as  indifferently  as  he  could  think  of  others  ? 
No  !  that  was  impossible  !  The  divorce  had  not  made 
him  free  —  could  not  make  him  free.  It  was  not  in  the 
power  of  legislatures  nor  courts  to  break  inward  bonds 
—  to  satisfy  conscience  —  to  put  a  man  right  with  God 
and  his  own  spirit,  when  he  was  wrong  interiorly. 

Carl  Jansen  had  intended  to  put  all  the  former  things 
of  his  life  behind  him.  This  act  of  legal  separation  was 
to  restore  the  status  which  existed  prior  to  marriage. 
Alas  !  for  his  peace  of  mind  ;  it  wrought  no  such  magical 
result.  There  lived  a  woman,  where  he  did  not  know* 
with  whom  he  had  stood  at  the  altar,  and  exchanged  vows 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  207 

of  lasting  fidelity.  He  knew  of  nothing  against  her  purity 
of  life  ;  of  nothing  that  could  work  a  plenary  separation, 
and  so  an  interior  divorce.  There  "had  been  incompatibil 
ities  ;  jarrings  and  alienations,  —  but  all  flowing  from  lack 
of  self-discipline  on  one  side  or  the  other.  It  was  the  evil 
things  of  the  unregenerate  mind  that  were  to  be  separat 
ed —  divorced  —  not  the  living  souls.  Somewhere,  in 
teachings  by  pulpit  or  press,  this  truth  had  found  its  way 
into  his  mind,  and  it  proved  troublesome.  It  was  a 
sword  flashing  before  his  eyes,  or  cutting  down  into  his 
life.  It  would  not  let  him  be  at  peace. 

It  took  all  of  another  year  for  the  crust  to  harden  over 
this  new  state  of  feeling.  In  the  meantime  he  had  gone 
more  into  society;  and  as  he  was  a  man  of  good  personal 
appearance,  known  integrity  of  chai'acter,  and  in  excel 
lent  circumstances,  many  fair  lips  smiled  upon  him,  and 
many  bright  eyes  sought  to  win  him  by  their  magic.  But, 
he  was  not  of  easy  fascination.  There  was  ever  a  disturb 
ing  inner  consciousness  of  a  woman's  claim  upon  him,  yet 
uncancelled,  that  sat  itself  against  all  these  allurements. 

The  time  came  when  all  the  past  was  so  hidden  from 
view,  that  Carl  Jansen  could  look  upon  another  woman 
with  loving  eyes,  and  draw  near  to  her  with  loving  words. 
From  among  the  fair  beings  who  crossed  his  way,  he  se 
lected  Margaret  Williams  as  the  best  and  worthiest  to 
hold  the  high  relation  of  a  wife.  He  chose  with  a  keen 
pei-ception  of  womanly  qualities ;  but  sought  to  mate  with 
one  who  had  loftier  views  of  marriage  than  he  possessed. 
His  offer  was  declined.  Now,  Jansen  was  not  of  that 
class  of  persons  who,  when  they  make  up  their  minds  to 
attain  a  certain  end,  are  easily  baffled.  He  was  not  over 
sensitive,  and  the  denial  of  his  suit  did  not,  therefore, 


208  OUT  IN  THK  WORLD. 

wound  his  pride  very  deeply.  He  saw  in  Miss  Williams  a 
woman  above  all  others  desirable  for  a  wife ;  and  he  meant 
to  gain  her  for  himself  if  that  were  possible.  "  Faint 
heart  never  won  fair  lady,"  he  said  to  himself,  and  pressed 
his  suit  again.  This  time,  Margaret  Williams  gave  him 
something  more  than  a  simple  refusal. 

"  Sir,"  she  answered,  sternly,  "  have  I  not  once  said  no ! 
Mr.  Jansen,  others  may  think  as  they  please,  but  I  regard 
an  offer  of  marriage  from  you  as  little  better  than  an  in 
sult  !  Do  you  understand  me  ?  " 

Her  eyes  flashed  with  unwonted  fire. 

"  An  insult !    No,  I  do  not  understand  you." 

"  You  have  a  wife,  sir ! " 

Carl  Jansen  turned  pale. 

"  God's  law  is  above  all  human  law,"  said  Miss  Williams. 
"What  God  joins,  it  is  not  for  man  to  put  asunder  until 
divine  law  works  a  separation.  I  have  not  heard  that 
this  is  so  in  your  case.  You  gave  in  no  plea  but  that  of 
desertion ;  and  this  works  to  no  annulling  of  the  marriage 
bond  in  the  sight  of  heaven.  Sir,  your  offer  of  marriage 
sent  a  shudder  through  my  soul !  And,  now  that  you 
have  presumed  on  its  repetition,  I  make  bold  to  say  what 
another  might  hesitate  to  declare." 

Jansen  essayed  a  feeble  argument,  but  Miss  Williams 
waved  her  hand  that  he  might  keep  silence,  and  then 
turned  from  him  with  a  cold  dignity  of  manner  that  scarce 
ly  veiled  her  contempt  and  aversion.  He  never  troubled 
her  again. 

But  all  the  women  he  met  did  not  possess  the  pure  in 
stincts  and  high  principle  of  Margaret  Williams.  There 
were  plenty  who  fixing  their  eyes  on  lower  and  more 
worldly  things  than  she  made  primary  in  marriage,  were 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  209 

ready  to  meet  him  in  exchange  of  vows  and  obligations 
the  most  sacred  and  the  most  vital  to  the  soul's  well  being 
and  peace  of  any  that  are  made.  Jansen  did  not  lack  dis 
crimination —  was  no  dull  reader  of  character.  He  saw 
the  wide  difference  between  this  class  of  women  and  the 
class  represented  by  Margaret  Williams ;  and  for  a  time 
held  himself  away  from  the  sphere  of  their  attractions. 
Moreover,  the  outspoken  rebuke  which  she  had  adminis 
tered  did  not  die  upon  his  ears  like  murmurs  of  the  idle 
wind;  but  quickened  his  thought  into  perceptions  that 
troubled  his  peace. 

Time  moved  on.  Jansen,  standing  lonely  in  the  world, 
etrongly  desired  companionship.  Because  of  an  unhappy 
experience  in  marrriage  — because  of  one  sad  shipwreck — 
must  there  be  no  further  venture  ?  He  did  not  believe  in 
this  necessity  of  the  case.  His  nature  rose  against  it  in 
protest.  He  wanted  a  home  —  domestic  associations — a 
family  in  which  he  might  embosom  himself.  Once  more  in 
his  life,  all  the  beautiful  ideals  of  marriage  and  its  felici 
ties  crowded  his  imagination.  Ardor  of  feeling  began  to 
obscure  his  judgment ;  and,  finally,  he  made  an  offer  of  his 
hand  to  one  who,  contrasted  at  first  in  his  thought  with 
Margaret  Williams,  dropped  below  the  line  of  even  re 
spectful  consideration.  She  was  but  a  woman  of  the 
world,  beside  whom,  as  to  fine  instincts  and  capacities  foi 
womanly  development,  Madeline  was  a  being  of  higher 
order. 

How  it  fared  with  him  in  this  new  relation,  we  shall 
see. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


HERE  was  nothing  coarse  or  sensual 
ab°ut  Carl  Jansen.  If  lie  was  not  very 
sensitive,  he  yet  had  a  refinement  of 
character  that  gave  delicate  perceptions 
and  which,  but  for  his  mistaken  notions 
about  marital  prerogative,  and  his  cold, 
self-will,  would  have  lifted  him  into  a 
just  appreciation  of  Madeline's  pure 
and  sweet  quality  of  mind.  If  lie  had 
not  been  so  foolish  and  blind,  he  would 
have  looked  through  all  exterior  veils, 
and  recognized  in  her  his  own  ideal  of  woman.  This  was 
seen  in  the  beginning ;  but  pride  and  passion  had  dimmed 
his  sight. 

We  shall  not  dwell  on  the  incidents  attending  his  sec 
ond  alliance.  Women  of  the  class  represented  by  Mar 
garet  Williams,  could  not  stoop  to  one  holding  his  ques 
tionable  relation  to  the  sex.  They  recognized  in  mar 
riage  something  more  than  a  good  external  arrangement. 
They  wanted  the  man  as  seen  by  interior  light ;  and  not 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  211 

the  man  as  he  stood  before  the  world.  And  so,  Carl  Jan- 
sen  was  compelled  to  choose  from  among  the  meaner  na 
tures  —  to  take  into  the  closest  of  all  human  relations  a 
woman  of  inferior  quality ;  one  Avithout  pure  instincts  or 
noble  impulses ;  one  who  smiled  on  him  because  he  was 
rich  and  respectable ;  and  man-led  him  to  secure  ease, 
luxury,  and  a  position. 

It  did  not  take  Jansen  long  to  discover  his  mistake  ; 
and  with  the  discovery  came  a  sense  of  weakness  never 
felt  before.  In  the  case  of  Madeline,  he  knew  that  he  had 
a  being  of  sensitive  spirit  to  deal  with,  and  therefore  had 
encouragement  to  act  against  her  when  she  stood  in  his 
way ;  but,  it  soon  became  apparent  that  his  new  wife  was 
of  a  different  organization.  Not  less  self-willed,  but  of 
such  coarse  quality,  that  he  found  himself  bruised  in  the- 
first  conflict.  The  relation  of  sensitiveness  was  trans 
ferred.  While  in  proof  armor  against  most  of  the  xvcap- 
ons  he  might  bring,  every  thrust  she  made  penetrated  the 
quivering  flesh. 

There  were  periods  during  the  first  year  of  this  incon 
gruous  union,  when  Jansen's  repulsion  towards  his  wife 
was  so  strong,  that  he  felt  impelled  to  disregard  all  bonds, 
and  shake  off"  the  dust  from  his  garments  against  her. 
But,  many  worldly  and  selfish  motives  came  in  to  restrain 
him.  Once  in  this  time  she  was  attacked  by  a  dangerous 
illness,  when  there  came  into  his  heart  the  wish  that  she 
might  die.  As  this  desire  took  form  in  his  mind,  Jansen 
was  startled,  and  sought  to  drive  it  away.  But  it  would 
not  be  cast  out;  and  when  the  crisis  was  past,  and  she 
began  to  recover,  he  stood  face  to  face  with  an  irrepres 
sible  regret,  the  existence  of  which  showed  him  the  mag 
nitude  of  his  error. 


212  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

The  spirit  moulds  the  flesh.  A  coarse  nature  takes  of 
the  coarser  elements  to  build  its  earthly  tabernacle,  and 
builds  after  the  pattern  of  its  meaner  ideals.  In  the 
spring-time  of  life,  when  the  active  forces  lie  near  the  age 
of  innocence  and  purity,  a  finer  selection  is  made,  and  so 
we  have  beauties  of  the  flesh  that  are  not  in  correspon 
dence  with  the  mind's  true  quality.  But,  after  the  early 
days  of  manhood  and  womanhood,  when  the  age  of  free 
dom  and  reason  comes  into  fullness,  a  new  order  prevails, 
and  then  we  begin  to  see  changes  that  often  bring  surprise, 
disappointment  and  pain. 

Such  changes  began  with  Jansen's  second  wife  soon  after 
their  marriage.  The  body  undergoes  perpetual  recreations. 
There  is  decay  and  new  formation  daily.  Old  things  are 
being  all  the  while  put  off  and  new  things  taken  on.  But 
in  the  spirit  we  have  all  that  is  real  and  substantial ;  and 
according  to  its  quality  will  be  the  earthly  garment  it  as 
sumes.  If  we  see  men  and  women  growing  coarse,  vulgar, 
and  sensual-looking  as  they  grow  older,  we  shall  scarcely 
err  in  our  estimate  of  their  quality,  should  AVC  conclude 
that  coarseness  and  sensuality  appertain  to  the  spirit.  If 
they  become  more  refined ;  if  we  see  the  original,  harder 
textures  of  their  flesh  growing  translucent  with  revela 
tions  of  inner  life  and  beauty,  shall  we  be  less  in  error 
if  we  say  that  with  all  such  the  spirit  is  growing  purei 
and  more  truly  human  ? 

The  new  wife  of  Carl  Jansen  did  not  thus  grow  beautiful 
in  his  eyes ;  but  changed,  as  the  years  progressed,  into  a 
grosser  and  grosser  image  of  selfishness  and  sensuality.  It 
was  remarked  by  those  who  observed  Jansen  closely,  that 
while  his  wife's  face  grew  coarser,  his  grew  more  refined  ; 
yet  with  a  blending  of  sadness  and  disappointment  in  all 


OUT   IN    THE    WOKLD.  213 

the  lineaments.  He  was  graver,  quieter,  more  abstracted. 
No  wonder ;  for  he  stood  daily  confronted  with  a  great 
life-error,  and  knew  that  the  time  for  its  correction  was 
gone  beyond  recall.  If  he  could  have  forgotten  the  past 
—  forgotten  Madeline  —  the  case  would  have  been  lighter 
for  him.  But,  memory,  as  the  years  crept  on,  seemed  to 
grow  more  distinct. 

Children  were  born  of  this  union  —  three  sons  and  two 
daughters.  It  is  not  often  that  either  men  or  women,  in 
approaching  marriage,  think  about  mental  and  moral 
qualities  as  reproduced  in  offspring.  If  this  were  soberly 
considered  in  the  light  of  reason,  many  would  draw  back, 
and  re-consider  the  whole  question  involved,  before  taking 
a  step  so  fraught  with  good  or  evil  consequences.  In 
Coventry  Patmore's,  "  Faithful  Forever,"  Mrs.  Graham, 
in  writing  to  Frederick,  touches  the  key  note  to  this  sub 
ject,  when  she  says  — 

"  Nor  would  she  bring  you  up  a  brood 
Of  straogcrs,  bound  to  you  by  blood, 
Boys  of  a  meaner  moral  race, 
Girls  with  their  mother's  evil  grace." 

The  brood  in  Carl  Jansen's  home  partook  largely  of 
the  mother's  meaner  quality  and  evil  grace.  As  she  had 
never  governed  herself  from  any  principle  of  honor  or 
high  breeding  —  had  never  put  mental  rein  on  appetite, 
impulse,  or  passion  —  her  nature  manifested  itself,  strong 
ly  at  first,  in  the  children.  The  father's  character  showed 
scarcely  a  sign  of  reproduction.  But,  that  lay  in  the  be 
ginning  out  of  sight.  It  was  a  hidden  and  more  interior 
life,  to  become  active  in  later  years. 

The  beauty,  the  grace,  the  sweetness  of  childhood,  as 


214  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

they  appear  in  some  homes,  were  not  seen  in  that  of 
Mr.  Jansen.  When  his  babes  first  lifted  their  soft  blue 
eyes,  so  full  of  light  from  heaven,  and  smiled  at  him,  the 
father's  heart  leaped  in  its  gladness,  and  overflowed  with 
promise.  Alas !  that  the  promise  was  never  fulfilled. 
Too  soon  the  mother's  evil  grace  appeared  —  the  taint  of 
coarseness  —  the  sensuality  —  the  mean  and  low  proclivi 
ties,  that,  under  disorderly  conditions  at  home,  it  was 
found  impossible  to  repress. 

Mrs.  Jansen  had  no  system  or  government  with  her 
children ;  and  so  they  grew  up  like  "  wild  asses'  colts." 
All  attempts  at  restraint  on  the  father's  part,  when  at 
home,  were  in  some  way  thwarted,  or  set  at  naught  by 
the  mother.  If  lie  attempted  punishment,  she  was  almost 
certain  to  interfere ;  if  he  laid  down  laws,  she  permitted 
their  infraction.  Her  very  manner  of  treating  him  before 
the  children,  diminished  their  respect  for  his  authority. 
It  was  a  common  thing  for  her  to  scout  his  opinions,  and 
make  light  of  his  suggestions.  If  he  became  angry,  and 
spoke  with  firmness  or  passion,  she  never  failed  of  coarse 
retort.  If  he  assumed  an  attitude  of  command,  she  either 
defied  him  or  laughed  in  his  face. 

Alas  for  Carl  Jansen  !  He  had  driven  from  him  a  wo 
man  moulded  of  finest  material  —  a  woman  of  tender 
and  true  impulses  —  a  woman  who  held  the  sweetness  of 
love  in  her  heart  as  a  rose  holds  its  perfume  —  and  in  hor 
place  had  consorted  with  a  clod  from  a  human  valley ! 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


~EN  years  of  such  a  life,  separating  it 
self  daily  more  and  more  from  all  true 
sources  of  enjoyment  —  from  all  the 
satisfactions  and  delights  after  which 
the  soul  thirsts  —  wrought  severely 
upon  the  bodily  and  mental  health  of 
Carl  Jansen.  A  too  intense  absorption 
of  his  thoughts  in  business  was  added 
to  the  undermining  forces.  At  thirty- 
six,  he  found  himself  failing ;  at  forty, 
he  was  an  invalid  —  broken  in  spirit  as 
well  as  broken  in  health. 

Now  it  was  that  his  heart  began  to  yearn  intensely  for 
that  care  and  tender  consideration  which  was  denied. 
The  strong,  exacting,  self-willed  man  felt  himself  growing 
weaker  daily,  and  less  and  less  able  to  compel  the  service 
which  love  failed  to  give.  Hearty,  coarse  and  strong,  Mrs. 
Jansen  had  a  kind  of  animal  contempt  for  the  weakness  of 
her  husband.  Physical  superiority  gave  her  a  sense  of 
mental  and  moral  superiority.  Daily,  he  seemed  dwarfing 


216  OUT   IN    THE    WOKLD. 

at  her  side;  and  she  soon  came  to  regard  him  as  of  little 
more  consequence  than  a  sickly  boy,  full  of  whims,  wants, 
and  petty  exactions,  that  were  to  be  treated  more  by  the 
rule  of  denial  than  favor. 

At  this  period  of  his  life,  when  its  bitterness  was  fresh 
to  his  revolting  taste,  Janseu  often  dreamed  of  Madeline. 
She  came  to  him,  in  vision,  always  as  his  wife  —  young, 
beautiful,  and  lovingly  ministrant.  Her  hand  smoothed 
and  softened  his  pillow,  and  held  refreshing  draughts  to 
his  thirsty  lips.  She  comforted  him  in  weakness  and  pain 
with  tender  words  and  heart-warm  kisses.  What  sad, 
hopeless,  self-accusing  awakenings  followed  these  sweet 
dreams,  that  so  mocked  the  painful  reality  ? 

Steadily  disease  kept  on,  sapping  the  foundations  of 
life.  Physicians  enjoined  entire  withdrawal  from  business, 
and  change  of  air.  During  the  milder  seasons,  travel  was 
recommended  as  of  more  avail  than  medicine.  So  trade 
was  relinquished,  and  Mr.  Jansen  devoted  himself  to  the 
work  of  acquiring  health.  In  this,  partial  success  would 
have  been  gained,  if  Mrs.  Jansen  had  given  to  her  hus 
band's  case  the  just  consideration  it  demanded.  But,  he 
was  not  first  in  her  thoughts.  A  lover  of  self  and  a  lover 
of  the  world,  she  had  gained  the  position  and  the  wealth 
for  which  she  had  married  him  ;  and,  as  a  natm-al  result, 
the  man  through  whom  these  most  desirable  things  were 
reached,  fell  into  the  back  ground  as  of  minor  considera 
tion. 

Mi's.  Jansen  was  pleased  with  the  idea  of  travelling 
about  and  seeing  the  world.  She  had  always  expressed 
a  desire  to  visit  Europe  —  to  see  Paris  — "  Dear,  delightful 
Paris ! "  as  she  said.  But,  in  giving  way  to  professional 
advice,  and  closing  up  his  business,  Jansen  had  not  con- 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  217 

templated  the  excitement  and  fatigue  of  a  tour  in  Europe. 
A  quiet  residence  of  weeks  by  the  sea  shore,  alternating 
with  weeks  among  the  mountains  —  rest  of  body  and  mind 

—  these  were,  in  his  thought,  the  limitations  of  at  least 
the  first  season  of  leisure.     The  sole  end  in  view  with  him 
was  health.    But  Mrs.  Jansen  scarcely  thought  of  this. 
Her  husband's  failing  health  brought  the  opportunity  she 
had  long  desired,  and  she  was  eager  to  embrace  it. 

There  are  occasions  when  the  will  of  the  weakest 
stands  as  a  wall  of  iron  against  all  opposition,  and  cannot 
be  borne  down.  It  was  so  with  Mr.  Jansen  in  this  case 

—  at  least  during  the  first  year  or  two  after  giving  up 
business.     His  wife  was  resolved  on  a  trip  across  the  At 
lantic,  and  he  was  just  as  resolute  in  his  purpose  not  to 
go.     The  power  was  in  his  hands,  and  he  maintained  it, 
in  spite   of  the  bitterest  and  most  persevering  assaults. 
But,  the  contest  robbed  him   of  that  mental  repose  so 
essential  to  his  bodily  condition.     The  days  were  all  either 
stormy  or  cloudy.     No  tranquillity ;  no  sunshine.     If  the 
selfish,  willful  wife  could  not  have  her  way,  she  could  at 
least  have  her  revenge,  and  there  was  no  intermission  of 
her  evil  work,  for  there  was  no  softness  nor  pity  in  her 
heart  towards  any  who  crossed  her  purposes.     There  are 
a  thousand  ways  in  which  an  unfeeling  wife  may  torture 
a  husband  whose  strength  of  mind  and  body  is  waning.  - 
Mrs.  Jansen  never  failed  in  this  cruel  work.     To  neglect 
and  indifference,  she  added  the  chafings  of  ill  temper,  and 
a  systematic  opposition  to  whatever  he  might  desire  or 
suggest.     Their  children  were  growing  up  undisciplined, - 
self-willed,  and  spoiled  by  indulgence ;  yet,  in  every  at 
tempt  at  correction   he  was  baffled  by  his  wife,  and  his 
authority  set  at  naught  through  her  persistent  iuterfer- 

10 


218  OUT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

ence.  She  was  perpetually  degrading  him  in  their  eyes; 
and  they  were  daily  learning  to  regard  him  with  indiffer 
ence,  if  not  contempt.  A  part  of  this  result  was  due  to 
his  own  peevish  and  fretful  states.  If  he  had  been  a 
strong  man  interiorily,  there  would  have  been,  in  reserve, 
powers  of  mind  ready  to  adapt  themselves  to  this  new 
condition  of  things.  An  unselfish  love  for  his  children 
would  have  manifested  itself  in  forms  that  were  attractive 
instead  of  repellant.  He  would  have  gained  a  power 
over  them  for  good,  that  must  have  largely  counterbal 
anced  their  mother's  evil  influence.  But,  he  had  not 
gained  that  moral  wisdom  which  is  born  of  self-denial. 
He  had  not  the  sweetness  of  ripened  fruit.  If  you  tasted 
him,  it  was  to  find  him  yet  bitter  and  sour. 

Mr.  Jansen  wished  to  spend  the  first  summer  after  his 
emancipation  from  business,  in  Minnesota  and  the  north 
west.  His  physician  strongly  recommended  the  pure,  in 
vigorating  air  of  the  Upper  Mississippi.  But,  Mrs.  Jansen 
would  hear  to  no  such  thing. 

"  If  you  go,"  she  said,  positively,  "  you  go  alone." 
Going  alone  did  not  suit  Mr.  Jansen.  He  was  weak  and 
depressed  in  spirits.  Two  or  three  slight  hemorrhages 
from  the  lungs  had  not  only  alarmed  him,  but  made  him 
unwilling  to  leave  home  unaccompanied  by  his  wife. 
Saratoga  and  Newport,  if  not  the  Continent, —  Mrs.  Jan 
sen  would  hear  to  nothing  else.  Mr.  Jansen  pleaded  for 
a  quiet  sea  shore  season  at  a  less  fashionable  watering 
place  than  Newport,  but  his  wife  was  immovable.  To 
Saratoga,  accompanied  by  their  two  oldest  children,  coarse, 
hoydenish  girls  of  fourteen  and  sixteen,  they  went  and. 
passed  a  few  weeks.  Then  they  migrated  to  Newport^ 
where  Mrs.  Jansen  displaying  herself  in  rich  attire  and 


OUT   IJT   THE    WORLD.  219 

flashing  jewels,  excited  contempt  and  criticism,  which  she 
fancied  to  be  envy  and  admiration.  Poor  Jansen  was 
treated  with  the  most  shameless  neglect  and  indifference 
by  his  wife.  Saratoga  water  and  sea-bathing  had  not 
helped  in  any  way.  Their  hygienic  virtues  were  not  strong 
enough  to  overcome  the  depressing  effects  of  fatigue,  ex 
citement,  and  the  perpetual  exasperation  of  mind  conse 
quent  on  the  behavior  of  his  wife  and  daughters  in  pub 
lic.  They  were  all  the  while  shocking  his  more  delicate 
sense  of  proprieties.  The  red  spots  that  stained  his 
cheeks  were  as  much  symptomatic  of  mental  as  physical 
irritation. 

One  day,  Mr.  Jansen  was  sitting  alone  on  the  porch  of 
the  hotel  —  he  was  alone  for  most  of  his  time,  neither  wife 
nor  daughters  finding  in  his  society  the  companionship 
that  pleased  them  —  when  he  was  seized  with  a  more 
than  usually  violent  fit  of  coughing  which  continued  for 
a  considerable  time  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts  to  control 
it.  A  tough  mucus  had  collected  on  the  lining  membrane 
along  the  bronchial  tubes,  that  he  found  it  difficult  to  dis 
lodge;  and  as  he  was  feeling  unusually  weak,  this  cough 
seriously  exhausted  him.  He  was  near  a  window  that 
opened  into  one  of  the  parlors,  and,  before  this  paroxysm 
had  been  listening  to  the  prattle  of  a  child  within ;  un 
seen  because  the  blind  was  down.  In  the  pauses  of  his 
cough,  he  noticed  that  the  sweet  young  voice  which  had 
fallen  so  pleasantly  on  his  ears,  was  silent.  He  had  been 
coughing  for  several  minutes,  when  a  beautiful  little  girl, 
not  more  than  two  years  old,  came  timidly  upon  the  porch, 
holding  a  small  box  in  her  hand,  which,  with  that  artless, 
yet  shrinking  grace  so  lovely  in  children,  she  held  out  for 
his  reception.  The  instant  he  took  the  box,  she  turned 


220  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

and  flew  back  with  the  swiftness  of  a  bird,  vanishing 
through  the  door  by  which  she  had  come  upon  the  porch, 

Glancing  down  at  the  small,  round  paper  box  left  in  his 
hand,  Mr.  Jansen  saw,  by  the  label,  that  it  contained  cough 
lozenges.  Surprise  mingled  with  a  feeling  of  pleasure  at 
this  delicately  offered  relief.  He  placed  one  of  the  loz 
enges  in  his  mouth,  and  in  a  little  while  the  irritating 
mucus  was  dissolved,  and  the  cough  abated.  When  Mr. 
Jansen  went  into  the  parlor  soon  afterwards,  the  child  and 
her  attendant  —  mother  or  nurse  —  were  gone.  A  gen 
tleman  with  whom  he  had  some  acquaintance  was  there, 
with  three  or  four  other  guests.  Taking  a  seat  beside 
this  person,  Mr.  Jansen  said — 

"Did  you  notice  a  beautiful  child  here  a  few  minutes 
ago?" 

"  Yes,"  was  answered. 

"  Who  was  with  her?" 

"No  one  but  her  nurse." 

"  Are  you  certain  ?  " 

"Yes." 

Mr.  Jansen  felt  disappointed,  he  hardly  knew  why.  It 
was  on  his  lips  to  ask  if  the  incident  of  sending  out  the 
box  of  lozenges  had  been  observed;  but  on  second 
thought,  he  remained  silent  on  that  head. 

"  Whose  child  was  it?  "  he  inquired,  after  a  pause. 

"  I  do  not  know." 

No  farther  questions  were  asked  by  Mr.  Jansen.  An 
hour  afterwards,  as  he  sat  in  one  of  the  piazzas,  gazing 
out  upon  the  sea,  a  sudden  burst  of  musical  child-laughter 
near  at  hand,  caused  him  to  look  round  quickly.  Only  a 
few  paces  from  him  was  the  sweet  little  fairy,  whose  imnge 
had  not  yet  faded  from  his  mind.  She  was  struggling, 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  221 

merrily,  with  her  nurse,  a  slender  girl  or  woman,  from 
whom  she  had  escaped.  The  face  of  the  nurse  being 
turned  from  Mr.  Jansen,  he  could  not  see  her  features. 
She  caught  up  the  child  in  her  arms,  and  ran  back  through 
the  door  from  which  it  had  come,  disappearing  from  sight. 
The  scene  passed  in  a  moment.  Soon  after,  a  lady  of  re 
fined  and  graceful  appearance  came  out,  leading  the  child, 
who  walked  quietly  at  her  side.  They  moved  down  the 
piazza,  through  its  whole  length  of  two  hundred  feet,  and 
then  back  again,  passing  Mr.  Jansen,  but  not  seeming  to 
observe  him.  The  lady  then  withdrew  into  the  house. 

On  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  near  sundown,  Mrs. 
Jansen  took  a  walk  accompanied  by  her  husband.  She 
was  tricked  out  in  an  abundance  of  finery,  that  acted  as 
a  foil  to  her  coarse  face  and  vulgar  figure.  As  she  moved 
amid  the  promenaders,  she  talked  loudly,  attracting  a  kind 
of  notice  that  was  mortifying  to  her  husband.  Many 
turned  and  looked  after  her,  smiling  at  her  vanity,  or 
sneering  at  her  vulgarity.  If  Mr.  Jansen  did  not  see  this, 
he  knew,  from  perception  and  his  knowledge  of  human 
nature,  that  it  was  so. 

"  The  air  feels  chilly  this  evening.  Let  us  go  back,'' 
said  Mr.  Jansen,  after  walking  for  half  an  hour.  He 
paused  as  he  spoke.  Mrs.  Jansen  replied,  speaking  in  the 
elevated  tone  of  voice  common  to  people  of  small  refine 
ment  — 

"  Indeed  and  I'm  not  going  back  !  You're  as  'fraid  of 
pure  air  as  if  it  were  poison.  Come  along,  Mr.  Jansen  ! " 

She  spoke  the  last  sentence  quite  imperatively. 

The  child,  from  whose  hand  Mr.  Jansen  had  received 
the  lozenges,  ran,  at  this  instant,  frolicking  against  him. 
He  stooped  and  caught  her  in  his  arms  to  prevent  her 


222  OUT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

from  falling.  Then  he  stood  face  to  face  with  her  nurse; 
a  pale,  slender  woman,  of  not  less  than  thirty-five.  She 
had  clear,  brown  eyes;  exquisitely  cut  features;  and  a 
mouth  full  of  tender  sadness.  Reaching  out  her  arms  for 
tli£  child,  she  gazed  steadily,  but  only  for  an  instant,  into 
the  face  of  Mr.  Jansen  ;  then  vanished  in  the  crowd.  It 
was  Madeline !  The  recognition  had  been  mutual. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


HIS  scene  passed,  later  in  the  evening. 

"Can  I  speak  a  few  words  with 
you  ?  "  The  lady  to  whom  this  was 
addressed  glanced  up  at  the  speaker, 
who  was  standing,  and  then  at  her  hus 
band,  who  was  reading  at  a  centre- 
table. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  in  a  kind  voice, 
yet  with  a  certain  dignified  sense  of 
superiority,  that  was  qiiite  apparent  in 
her  manner  ;  and  then  waited  for  the 
communication  about  to  be  made. 
"  Can  I  see  you  alone  ?  " 

"  Oh,  certainly  !  "  said  the  lady,  evincing  slight  annoy 
ance,  yet  rising  promptly. 

"  What  is  it,  Madeline  ?  "  she  asked,  as  soon  as  they 
were  in  the  adjoining  bed-chamber  —  lady  and  nurse;  the 
one  sitting  and  the  other  standing. 

"  You  will  think  strangely  of  me  ma'am,  but  —  "  The 
nurse  stopped  in  the  middle  of  her  sentence,  and  caught 


224  OUT   IN   THE    WOELD. 

her  breath  with  a  half  sob,  like  one  under  the  influence  of 
strong  feeling. 

"  Strangely,  Madeline !  On  what  account  ?  Speak  out 
plainly."  The  lady's  brow  grew  a  little  severe. 

"I  must  leave  you  in  the  morning,"  said  the  nurse? 
quietly,  in  a  very  low  voice. 

"  Leave  me !  I  don't  understand  you,  Madeline.  Leave 
ine  for  what  ?  " 

"  I  came  here  very  reluctantly,  ma'am.  If  it  hadn't  been 
for  Netty  — "  The  voice  choked  again. 

"You  don't  mean  that  you  are  going  from  Newport  to 
morrow  morning ! " 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"Leaving  me,  a\^ray  from  home,  without  a  nurse!  Im 
possible,  Madeline  !  I  shall  consent  to  no  such  thing." 

The  nurse  dropped  her  eyes  from  the  lady's  half  angry 
face,  and  stood,  looking  quite  pale  and  agitated,  for  some 
moments.  Then  she  replied,  with  a  steadiness  of  voice 
that  left  her  auditor  in  no  doubt  touching  her  resolution 
to  do  as  she  had  intimated. 

"  I  cannot  explain,  ma'am ;  but  I  must  go.  No  induce 
ment  in  your  power  to  offer  would  keep  me  here  another 
clay.  I  shall  leave  in  the  early  boat.  If  I  did  not  know," 
she  added,  "  that  you  would  object  to  any  such  arrange 
ment,  I  would  propose  taking  Netty  with  me.  I  could 
go  home  with  her,  and  remain  there  until  you  returned." 

The  lady  shook  her  head  and  said,  "  No,"  emphatically. 

"But  what  is  the  meaning  of  this ?  I  cannot  under 
stand  it,  Madeline.  Sit  down,"  she  added,  in  a  gentler 
voice,  seeing  how  white  the  face  of  her  nurse  was  grow 
ing- 
Madeline  sat  down,  leaning  heavily  against  her  chair, 
like  one  oppressed  with  faintness. 


OUT  IN   THE   WORLD  225 

"  What  is  your  reason  for  going  ? ' 

Madeline  did  not  reply. 

"  Will  you  not  confide  in  me  ?    I  am  yonr  friend." 

"  It  would  avail  nothing,  ma'am,"  answered  Madeline. 

"  It  might  avail  much.  Who  and  what  are  you  ? 
There  is  a  mystery  about  your  life.  I  have  seen  this  from 
the  beginning.  Give  me  yonr  confidence.  It  will  be  bet 
ter  for  you,  Madeline  ;  I  know  it  will  be  better.  There 
has  been  some  sad  error.  Tell  me  the  story  frankly,  so 
that  I  may  know  how  to  be  your  true  friend." 

"  There  are  few  lives  without  error,"  replied  Madeline, 
sadly.  "Mine  has  not  escaped.  But,  as  in  too  many  in 
stances,  the  error  is  past  correction,  and  I  must  still  eat 
the  bitter  fruit.  I  feel  your  kindness,  but  the  confidence 
you  ask  cannot  be  given." 

A  long  silence  followed.  The  lady  was  surprised  and 
perplexed.  Madeline,  who  had  been  in  her  family  as  a 
nurse  for  over  a  year,  going  quietly  and  faithfully  through 
her  duties,  taking  her  place  Avith  the  servants  in  the  fami 
ly  as  a  servant,  came  all  at  once  into  a  different  aspect. 
The  mistress  felt  a  new  impression  of  her  character  —  felt, 
from  her  language,  manner  and  bearing,  the  presence  of 
an  equal  mind  with  equal  culture. 

"  Let  it  be  as  you  will,  Madeline,"  she  said,  breaking  the 
oppressive  silence.  "  There  must  be  painful,  and  I  will 
believe,  imperative  reasons,  for  the  course  you  are  taking. 
It  will  leave  me  embarrassed  here.  I  cannot  hope  to 
supply  your  place ;  and  shall  be  obliged,  failing  in  the 
effort,  to  return  home." 

Tears  fell  over  Madeline's  face  as  she  answered  — 

"  The  reason,  dear  madam,  is  indeed  painful  and  imper 
ative.    If  it  were  not  so  I  could  not  leave  you.     Oh, 
10* 


226  OUT   IN    TUB    WOELD. 

if  you  will  but  consent  to  my  taking  Netty  home  ! 
That  would  relieve  you  from  all  embarrassment,  and  you 
could  remain  here  through  the  season.  I  will  be  very 
careful  of  her." 

"No  —  no,  Madeline.      I  cannot  think  of  that,  and  I 

know  that  Mr.  B will  object,  positively.      I  am 

afraid,  too,  that,  when  he  hears  of  your  sudden  purpose  to 
go,  he  will  be  very  angry." 

Madeline  sighed  heavily. 

"  Can't  you  put  off  your  departure  for  a  day  or  two. 
The  time  is  so  short," 

Madeline  shivered,  as  she  replied  — 

"  I  cannot  remain  a  day  longer.  If  you  knew — "  She 
stopped,  showing  mnch  agitation. 

"  Knew  what,  Madeline  ?  My  dear  woman,  why  not 
trust  me  ?  " 

For  a  few  moments  there  was  struggle  and  hesitation 
with  Madeline.  Out  of  it  she  came  resolved  and  firm 
Her  answer  closed  the  interview.  Rising,  she  said,  with 
a  quiet  dignity  of  manner  that  left  Mrs.  B no  fur 
ther  plea  for  remonstrance  — 

"  I  shall  never  forget  your  kindness,  and  never  cease  to 
regret  the  necessity  that  compels  me  to  leave  you  now. 
In  every  life,  madam,  there  are  things  too  sacred  to  be  un 
covered,  even  for  the  eyes  of  those  nearest  and  dearest. 
There  are  bui-dens  which  we  must  bear  alone,  even  though 
they  become  so  heavy  upon  our  weak  shoulders  that  we 
fall  fainting  by  the  way.  Mine  is  such  a  burden ;  and  I 
shall  only  lay  it  down,  when  my  feet  stand  at  an  open 
grave." 

Turning  away,  she  left  the  room,  going  out  quickly. 
The  lady  made  no  effort  to  detain  her.  Madeline's  room 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  227 

was  on  the  next  floor  above.  As  she  came  along  the  pas 
sage,  near  the  main  stairway,  she  encountered  Mrs.  Jan- 
sen,  accompanied  by  her  two  daughters,  gayly  dressed  in 
ball  attire.  There  was  to  be  dancing  in  the  great  parlor 
on  that  evening,  and  the  music  was  already  echoing 
through  the  house.  Madeline  shrunk  aside,  turning  her 
face  to  the  wall.  She  feared  to  meet  the  husband  and 
father.  But,  he  had  110  heart  for  music  and  dancing,  as 
she  found  soon  after.  She  stood  still  for  a  little  while, 
and  then  passed  up  stairs.  In  her  confusion,  she  turned 
to  the  right  hand  instead  of  the  left,  and  did  not  perceive 
her  mistake  until  she  commenced  examining  the  numbers, 
in  order  to  determine  her  own  room.  This  increased  her 
bewilderment.  As  she  stood,  trying  to  get  her  mind  clear, 
a  deep,  jarring  cough  sounded  from  one  of  the  rooms. 
She  knew  from  whom  it  came  but  too  well !  For  some 
moments  her  feet  seemed  bound  to  the  floor.  The  cough 
rattled  on,  painfully  intense ;  ceasing  with  a  heavy  moan. 
In  the  pause  she  was  about  moving  back  along  the  pas 
sage,  when  there  came  from  the  room  an  exclamation  of 
alarm,  and  the  door  was  thrown  open.  Mr,  Jansen  stepped 
out  a  pace  or  so.  His  eyes  was  starting  with  a  look  of 
fear.  He  held  to  his  mouth  a  white  handkerchief,  that 
was  stained  with  blood. 

" Oh !  Oh !  Call  somebody! "  he  cried  out,  in  a  half 
smothered  voice.  Then  coughed,  raising  large  mouthfuls 
of  blood. 

"  Madeline  did  not  hesitate  for  an  instant.  It  was  no 
time  to  consider  questions  of  propriety.  The  case  before 
her  stood  as  for  life  or  death. 

"  Go  in  and  lie  down  quickly ! "  she  said,  as  she  sprung 


228  OUT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

across  the  passage,  and  almost  forced  him  back  into  the 
room.  "Lie  down  quickly  ! "  she  repeated. 

Jansen  obeyed,  passively.  Madeline  jerked  the  bell, 
and  then  asked  — 

"  Is  there  any  salt  in  the  room  ?  " 

Mi'.  Jansen  shook  his  head. 

The  blood  still  came  up  in  large  mouthfuls.  Madeline 
held  a  basin,  and  wiped  off  the  red  stains  from  his  lips  at 
each  expectoration.  She  was  preternaturally  calm  — 
calm  from  the  pressure  of  intense  excitement  —  and  pale 
as  marble. 

"Bring  some  salt,  a  tumbler,  and  water!  Quickly! 
And  call  a  doctor ! "  said  Madeline,  to  a  servant  who  an 
swered  the  bell.  The  servant  comprehending  what  he 
saw,  ran  down  stairs,  and  soon  reappeared  with  the  de 
sired  articles. 

"Did  you  find  a  doctor?"  asked  Madeline,  as  she  mixed 
the  salt  and  water. 

"  Yes.     He  will  be  here  in  a  moment." 

Madeline  raised  the  head  of  Mr.  Jansen,  and  held  the 
saline  draught  to  his  lips.  The  servant  went  out,  and  she 
was  again  alone  with  him.  The  blood  still  came  up  free 
ly,  but  the  intervals  were  longer.  She  was  wiping  the 
blood  and  mucus  away  from  his  lips  when  the  doctor  came 
in,  accompanied  by  the  servant  who  had  just  left  the  cham 
ber.  Madeline  moved  back  from  the  bed,  giving  place  to 
the  doctor.  Her  face  was  pale  as  death.  She  staggered 
a  little,  and  caught  herself  against  the  wall ;  then  went 
groping  towards  the  door,  like  one  who  saw  but  imper 
fectly. 

"  Your  nurse  has  fainted  ma'am,"  said  one  of  the  wait- 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  229 

ers,  coming  into  Mrs.  B 's  room  hastily.  "  She's 

fainted,  and  lying  on  the  floor. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  B ,  as  she  started 

up. 

"  She's  lying  in  the  passage,  up  stairs,  ma'am." 

When  Mrs.  B reached  the  upper  passage,  she 

found  that  Madeline  had  been  carried  to  her  own  chamber 
She  was  lying  on  the  bed,  white  and  insensible. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  What  happened  to  her  ?  " 
she  asked  ;  but  no  one  could  answer  her  question. 

It  was  nearly  an  hour  before  signs  of  life  appeared. 

During  this  time,  Mrs.  B heard  something  about 

Mr.  Jansen's  hemorrhage,  and  the  assistance  which  Made 
line  had  rendered.  The  doctor  had  found  her  in  the  sick 
man's  room,  looking  ghastly  and  frightened,  yet  doing  all 
that  was  best  to  be  done  in  the  alarming  emergency. 

"  This  woman  puzzles  me,"  said  Mrs.  B ,  as  she 

sat  with  her  husband,  after  Madeline  had  come  to  herself, 
and  was  considered  well  enough  to  be  left  alone  for  the 
night.  "  What  was  she  doing  at  the  other  end  of  the 
house,  where  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jansen's  rooms  are  situated  ? 
Her  chamber  is  at  the  extreme  east,  and  their  apartments 
at  the  extreme  west." 

"  Jansen  ?  —  Jansen  ?  "  Mr.  B uttered  the  name 

in  a  tone  of  curious  inquiry.  "  Oh,  he's  the  man  that  had 
such  a  time  with  his  first  wife.  Don't  you  remember  ?  He 
married  a  gay,  spirited,  beautiful  girl  —  her  name  was 
Spencer,  I  believe  —  " 

"  Why,  that  is  Madeline's  name !  "  exclaimed  Mrs- 
B  . 

"  Madeline  Spencer !  The  very  name  !  I  remember  it 
perfectly ! " 


230  OUT   IN    THK    WOULD. 

Husband  and  wife  looked  at  each  other  in  silent  sur 
prise. 

"  Can  it  be  possible  that  Madeline  is  the  former  wife  of 
Mr.  Jansen  ?  "  said  Mrs.  B 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder.  She's  always  seemed  to  me  above 
her  position." 

"  No  one  could  have  been  more  faithful,"  replied  Mrs. 
B 

"  I  did  not  mean  that  she  assumed  airs  above  her  posi 
tion  ;  but,  that  she  was  fitted  for  a  superior  place." 

"In  my  interview  with  her  this  evening,"  said  Mrs. 

B ,  "  she  put  off  the  relation  of  a  domestic,  and 

talked  with  me  as  one  of  equal  condition.  Heretofore,  few 
words  have  passed  between  us.  She  has  not  been  commu 
nicative  nor  chatty,  like  girls  who  usually  fill  the  place  she 
held  with  us.  To-night,  her  language  was  that  of  an  ed 
ucated  woman,  who  had  thought,  and  felt,  and  suffered; 
of  a  woman  of  character  and  purpose — strong  to  bear, 
and  resolute  to  do,  what  her  convictions  showed  to  be 
right." 

"  Depend  upon  it,"  said  Mr.  B ,  "  she  is  Jansen's 

first  wife." 

"  And  if  so,  how  infinitely  superior  to  the  coarse,  vulgar 
woman  who  now  claims  him  for  her  husband.  Why,  she 
disgusts  every  one  !  She's  the  laughing  stock  of  the  house. 
And  such  forward,  hoydenish  girls !  They've  been  here 
only  two  days,  and  yet  everybody  is  remarking  on  their 
rudeness  and  want  of  good  manners.  I  noticed  Madeline 
looking  at  them  yesterday,  as  they  ran  screaming  up  and 
down  the  piazza.  And  I  now  remember  that  she  caught 
up  Netty  suddenly,  and  ran  with  her  into  the  house,  as  if 
to  escape  from  their  annoyance.  I  do  not  wonder  that 
she  decided  to  leave  here  immediately." 


OUT   IN    THE    WOKLD.  231 

"  She  will  not  be  well  enough  to  go  in  the  morning,' 

said  Mr.  B .     "  The  shock  of  this  evening's  encoun 

ter  with  Mr.  Jansen  will  probably  make  her  ill." 

"  Her  case  assumes  a  new  aspect,"  remarked  the  lady. 
"  Did  you  ever  hear  anything  ill  against  her? —  anything 
touching  her  character,  I  mean  ? 

"Well,  there  was  some  hard  talk — there  always  will 
be  in  such  cases.  People  are  very  prone  to  imagine  evil. 
But,  I  fancy,  she  kept  her  garments  free  from  stain.  The 
separation  was  her  own  act.  They  had  a  quarrel,  it  was 
said,  about  something.  He  was  overbearing  and  tyranni 
cal;  and  she  strong-willed  and  independent.  In  a  fit  of 
passion,  she  went  away,  declaring  her  purpose  never  to  re 
turn  unless  he  promised  a  different  line  of  conduct.  He 
would  not  promise,  and  she  would  not  humble  herself. 
So  they  stood  apart,  year  after  year ;  and,  finally,  on  the 
plea  of  desertion,  her  husband  obtained  a  divorce.  So  the 
case  stands,  I  think.  This  is  the  head  and  front  of  the  of 
fending  —  nothing  more." 

"  Taking  it  for  granted,"  said  Mrs.  B ,  "  that  Mad 
eline  is  the  person  we  suppose,  can  we  blame  her  for  go 
ing  away  ?  " 

"  Not  fairly.  I  do  not  see  how  she  can  remain  a  day 
longer." 

"  Is  she  not  entitled  to  consideration  on  our  part,"  asked 
Mrs.  B . 

« I  think  so." 

"  She  has  been  in  our  family  for  over  a  year,  and  has 
been  faithful  to  Netty.  I  do  not  like  to  see  her  going 
away  from  here  alone ;  going  out  into  the  world  friendless 
and  homeless,  it  may  be.  Her  case  touches  me." 

"  What  have  you  to  suggest  ?  " 


232  OUT   IN    THE    WOULD. 

"  That  we  leave  here  to-morrow  afternoon." 
"  And  go  home  ?  " 

"Yes.  I  cannot  remain  without  a  nurse;  and  the 
chances  are  all  against  my  obtaining  one.  Beyond  this,  I 
am  impressed  with  the  conviction  that  we  cannot  disregard 
Madeline  and  be  blameless.  In  the  order  of  that  Provi 
dence  which  gives  no  respect  to  persons,  she  is  now  in  our 
hands.  Her  situation,  if  what  we  suppose  in  regard  to  her 
be  true,  is  one  of  peculiar  interest.  Let  us  take  her  home. 
It  may  involve  a  little  self-denial.  But,  good  is  born  of 
self-denial." 

"  The  matter  is  in  your  hands,"  said  Mr.  B .    "  I 

shall  make  no  objection,  decide  as  you  will." 
"  Then  I  decide  to  go  home  to-morrow." 
"  So  let  it  be." 

In  the  morning,  Madeline  did  not  come  as  usual,  for 
Netty. 

"I'm  afraid  she's  sick.     The  agitation  of  last  evening 

has  been  too  much  for  her,"  said  Mrs.  B ,  on  rising 

to  attend  to  her  early  awaking  child. 

"  It  may  be  well  to  see  how  she  is,"  suggested  the  hus 
band. 

It  was  nearly  seven  o'clock.     After  dressing  Netty  Mrs. 

B went  up  to  Madeline's   room.     She  found   the 

door  open,  but  no  one  in  the  apartment.  Glancing  around 
hurriedly,  she  saw  that  Madeline's  trunk  had  been  taken 
away ;  and  on  examining  the  closet  and  case  of  drawers, 
discovered  that  everything  had  been  removed  from  them. 
Inquiry  at  the  office,  settled  all  doubts.  The  nurse  had 
left  Newport  by  the  early  morning  line. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


YEAR  afterwards. 

"  She  owes  for  three  months  now," 
said  a  hard,  impatient  voice. 

"Not  quite  three  months,"  was  an 
swered  by  a  woman.  The  tones  were 
mild  and  deprecating. 

"  Is  she  doing  any  work  ?  " 
"Yes.    But  not  much." 
"  Send  her  adrift.     She    can't  pay 
the  rent." 

"She   will  pay,"    said   the  woman. 
« I'll  trust  her.     She's  honest." 

"  Honest  ?    Pho !     What's  the  good  of  being  honest, 
if  you  haven't  anything  to  be  honest  with." 
The  woman  did  not  answer. 

"  She  must  go ;  unless  she  settles  up.  I  wont  have  her 
in  the  house  a  day  beyond  this  quarter."  The  man  spoke 
angrily. 

"If  she  goes,  we  lose  all,"  replied  the  woman.  "But, 
if  we  let  her  stay,  she  will  make  every  dollar  of  the  rent 
good.  I'll  trust  her  for  that." 


234  OUT   IK   THE   WORLD. 

"  Why  do  we  lose  all  if  she  goes  ? "  asked  the  man, 
turning  abruptly  to  his  wife." 

"  She  has  nothing  to  pay  with  now." 

"  She  has  a  bed  and  a  bureau." 

"But  you'll  not  take  them !  " 

"  I'll  have  my  rent.    You  may  trust  me  for  that." 

The  man,  after  saying  this,  went  out.  The  wasted, 
shrinking  figure  of  a  woman,  in  years  not  beyond  the 
prime  of  life,  stood  in  the  door  of  a  small  room,  on  the 
second  story,  listening  to  this  conversation.  At  its  close, 
she  went  back  again,  noiselessly,  into  the  apartment  from 
which  the  voices  below  had  attracted  her,  and  sitting 
down,  with  a  weak,  weary  air,  hid  her  face  among  the 
folds  of  some  coarse  muslin  that  was  lying  on  a  small 
work-table.  One  hand  was  held  closely  against  her  left 
side.  She  had  remained  thus,  almost  motionless,  for  sev 
eral  minutes,  when  the  opening  of  her  door  caused  her  to 
look  up.  The  visitor  was  her  landlady,  who  came  in  with 
a  serious  face. 

"  Arn't  you  so  well  to-day,  Mrs.  Spencer?  "  inquired  the 
landlady,  as  she  looked  into  the  woman's  exhausted  and 
suffering  countenance. 

"  About  as  usual,"  was  replied.  The  woman  was  strug 
gling  for  self-possession ;  for  the  moral  strength  by  which 
she  could  be  calm  and  rightly  adjusted  in  the  presence  of 
an  inferior  who  had  power  over  her.  Her  success  in  this 
was  only  partial. 

"You  don't  look  so  well,"  said  the  other,  kindly. 

A  silence,  embarrassing  to  both,  followed. 

"I  didn't  sleep  soundly  last  night,"  said  the  woman, 
breaking  through  this  silence. 

"  Were  you  sick,  or  in  pain  ?  " 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  235 

"  No  ;  my  thoughts  kept  me  awake."  Then  she  added, 
with  that  abruptness  which  is  sometimes  born  of  sudden 
resolution,  "  It's  getting  worse  and  worse,  Mrs.  Jackman. 
My  rent  is  nearly  three  months  behind,  and  the  prospects 
do  not  grow  brighter.  I  stint  myself  in  every  way  ;  but 
earn  so  little  that  it  seems  impossible  to  get  all  right 
again.  Ho  w  would  it  suit  you  to  take  my  bureau  ?  It 
cost  me  sixteen  dollars,  and  is  as  good  as  it  was  the  day  I 
bought  it.  You  shall  have  it  for  twelve  dollars,  and  then 
we  shall  be  even  again.  I  think,  maybe,  I  can  keep  up  in 
the  future.  After  two  or  three  weeks'  trial,  if  I  can't  get 
along,  I  will  leave  your  room  for  a  better  tenant." 

"  I  shouldn't  like  to  take  your  bureau,"  said  the  land 
lady,  in  no  feigned  reluctance  at  the  thought  of  accepting 
this  proposal. 

"  It  is  my  own  offer,"  replied  Mrs.  Spencer ;  "  and  if  you 
can  accept  of  it,  the  obligation  will  be  on  my  side." 

"  I  will  talk  Avith  my  husband.     If  he  doesn't  object." 

"Why  should  he  object,  Mrs.  Jackman ?  He  can  send 
the  bureau  to  auction  and  get  the  money  for  it  whenever 
he  pleases." 

"  He  might  not  think  so.  Still  I'll  do  my  best  with  him. 
But,  Mrs.  Spencer,  suppose  you  can't  get  along  any  better  ? 
What  then  ?  " 

"  I'll  go  away.  You  shall  not  be  troubled  with  me  any 
longer."  She  spoke  in  a  tone  of  irrepressible  sadness. 

"  Go  away  where  ?    What  will  you  do  ?  " 

"  He  knows."  The  eyes  of  Mrs.  Spencer  glanced  up 
wards. 

"  Have  you  no  friends,  ma'am  ?  You're  not  fit  to  be 
alone.  If  you've  any  friends,  you'd  better  go  to  them. 
You're  sick  and  can't  work." 


236  OUT   m    THE    WOULD. 

Mi*s.  Spencer  did  not  respond  to  this.  On  the  table 
near  which  she  sat,  some  partly  made  unbleached  muslin 
drawers  were  lying.  She  reached  her  hand  for  the  work 
which  she  had  laid  down  a  little  while  before. 

"Take  my  advice,"  said  the  landlady,  "and  go  to  bed. 
You're  pale  as  a  sheet  this  blessed  minute  !  My ! "  She 
started  towards  Mrs.  Spencer  as  she  made  this  exclama 
tion.  A  faintness  had  come  over  the  exhausted  woman, 
and  she  would  have  fallen  had  not  Mrs.  Jackman  been  at 
her  side.  Large  drops  of  perspiration  covered  her  fore 
head,  and  stood  beaded  around  her  mouth.  The  faintness 
passed  off  in  a  few  minutes,  but  not  until  Mrs.  Spencer 
had  been  supported  to  her  bed. 

"It  wont  do  no  how!"  said  Mrs.  Jackman,  continuing 
her  remonstrance.  "  You  must  stop  and  take  rest.  You'll 
be  down  with  fever,  or  something  worse  ;  and  then  what'll 
become  of  you  ?  " 

"If  I  could  only  die !  "  was  the  answer,  made,  passionate 
ly,  through  a  gushing  flood  of  tears.  "  If  God  would  only 
take  me  now ! " 

Mrs.  Jackman  stood  over  her,  full  of  pity,  but  helpless 
for  comfort. 

"  Isn't  there  somebody  that  I  can  see  for  you,  ma'am  ?  " 
she  asked.  "  Some  friend  who  would  not  let  you  want, 
now  that  you  are  too  sick  to  help  yourself  ?  I'll  go  any 
where  for  you  ?  " 

Mrs.  Spencer  made  no  answer. 

"  Now  do  think,  ma'am,"  urged  the  sympathizing  land 
lady.  "  I'm  sure  you  can  get  help  if  you  will  only  ask  for 
it.  We  can't  always  let  our  pride  have  its  way;  and, 
maybe,  it  wouldn't  be  best  for  us  in  the  end.  I've  had  to 
humble  myself  a  great  many  times,  though  it  did  go 
hard." 


OUT   IX    THE   AVORLD.  237 

"  You  are  kind  and  good,  Mrs.  Jackman,"  replied  Mrs. 
Spencer,  with  recovering  self-possession.  "I'll  think 
about  what  you  say,  though  I'm  afraid  nothing  will  come 
of  it," 

"  That,  maybe,  will  depend  on  yourself." 

There  was  no  reply  to  this. 

"  You  wont  try  to  do  anything  this  morning.  You'll 
j  ust  lie  still  in  bed,"  urged  Mrs.  Jackman. 

Mrs.  Spencer  shut  her  eyes  and  turned  her  face  away. 
The  landlady  stood  over  her  for  a  little  while,  and  then 
went  down  stairs. 

Not  very  far  from  the  poor  tenement  in  which  this 
scene  occurred,  stood  a  large  dwelling,  crowded  in  every 
part  with  modern  appliances  of  comfort.  In  one  of  the 
chambers  a  man  sat  alone.  His  form  was  stooping  and 
wasted ;  his  eyes  sunken  far  back  in  the  hollow  orbits ; 
his  lips  thin  and  white ;  his  face  of  an  ashen  paleness. 
He  sat  alone,  as  we  have  said,  in  a  back  chamber.  There 
was  a  book-case  and  secretary  in  the  room,  which  was 
used  as  a  kind  of  private  office,  or  library.  The  man 
occupied  a  large  easy  chair,  which  had  been  drawn  up  to 
the  secretary.  He  was  engaged  in  looking  over  some 
papers.  Pausing  in  this  work,  he  reached  his  hand  for  a 
bell-cord  that  hung  near,  and  pulled  it.  A  servant 
answered  the  call. 

"  Tell  Mrs.  Jansen  that  I  would  like  to  see  her,"  he 
said. 

"  She's  gone  out  sir,"  replied  the  servant. 

"  Gone  out ! "  He  spoke  in  a  tone  of  fretful  disappoint 
ment. 

"  Yes,  sir.  She  went  out  more  than  an  hour  ngo.  Is 
there  rtaythhig  that  I  can  do  for  you  ?  " 


238  OUT    IN    THE    WOELD. 

"No  —  no.  I  wished  to  see  Mrs.  Jansen.  But  no 
matter  —  no  matter." 

The  servant  withdrew.  Again  the  reader  has  Mr. 
Jansen  before  him.  A  year  has  gone  by  since  the  ex 
citing  events  at  Newport.  He  was  very  ill  there,  and 
not  well  enough  to  be  removed  with  safety  to  New  York 
for  nearly  three  weeks  after  the  attack  we  have  describ 
ed.  During  this  year,  he  has  wasted  gradually,  growing 
sensibly  weaker  from  day  to  day.  There  has  been  no  re 
turn  of  the  exhausting  hemorrhages. 

It  had  been  a  year  of  painful  experience  and  retrospec 
tion.  The  neglect  and  indifference  of  his  wife  had  be 
come,  to  one  in  Mr.  Jansen's  condition,  positive  cruelty. 
There  did  notTexist,  in  the  breast  of  Mrs.  Jansen,  a  sin 
gle  spark  of  affection  for  her  husband;  and  she  had  ceased 
to  make  a  pretence  of  what  she  did  not  feel.  His  wealth 
gave  her  the  means  of  self  gratification ;  beyond  that, 
she  did  not  consider  him.  As  to  tying  herself  down  to  a 
fretful,  unreasoning  sick  man,  she  would  do  no  such 
thing !  If  he  wanted  special  attendance,  let  him  get  a 
nurse.  He  was  able  enough  to  employ  one.  So  she 
thought,  and  her  actions  were  in  agreement  with  her 
thoughts. 

After  the  servant  went  down  stairs,  Mr.  Jansen  re 
sumed  his  work  of  examining  certain  papers  taken  from 
a  drawer  which  had  not  been  disturbed  for  a  long  time. 
Among  them  he  came  upon  a  letter  enclosed  in  an  en 
velop  that  bore  his  address.  The  hand  writing  he  knew 
but  too  well,  and  the  sight  of  it  made  his  heart  leap  with 
a  sudden  throb.  For  a  few  moments,  he  sat  holding  this 
letter,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  superscription,  then  he  made 
a  motion  to  put  it  away  out  of  sight,  but  paused  ere  this 


OUT   IN    THE   WORLD.  239 

was  half  done.  A  good  while  he  sat  very  still,  commun 
ing  with  himself.  Then,  slowly,  but  with  firm  hands, 
like  one  who  had  made  up  his  mind,  he  withdrew  the 

letter  from  its  envelop,  unfolded  it,  and  read  — 

/ 

"  MY  HUSBAND  —  I  fear  that  we  have  come  to  a  place 
in  life  where  our  paths  must  diverge  :  not  however  through 
my  desire  or  my  election.  As  I  look  out  into  the  world, 
and  dimly  realize  what  I  must  be,  and  do,  and  suffer,  living 
apart  from  my  husband,  I  faint  in  spirit  —  I  shudder  at 
the  pi'ospect.  My  heart  turns  back,  fain  to  linger  in  the 
sheltered  home  where  it  took  up  two  years  ago  its  rest 
in  peace  and  joy.  But,  you  have  dictated  the  only  terms 
on  which  I  can  remain  in  this  home.  I  must  be  inferior 
and  obedient.  You  must  be  lord,  and  I  serf.  The  free 
will  that  God  gave  me,  I  must  lay  at  your  feet.  Alas  for 
me  !  I  cannot  thus  submit.  As  your  equal,  I  can  walk 
by  your  side,  true  as  steel  to  honor,  virtue,  purity,  and 
love ;  as  your  inferior  there  can  be  no  dwelling  together 
for  us  in  the  same  house. 

"  To-day,  you  have  laid  on  me  a  command,  and,  delib 
erately,  in  face  of  all  consequences,  I  resolve  to  act  as 
freely  as  though  it  had  not  been  spoken.  At  the  same 
time,  I  shall  give  you  credit  for  being  in  earnest,  and 
refrain  from  coming  back,  after  I  leave  your  house,  until 
you  send  me  word  that  you  desire  my  return.  I  go,  be 
cause  I  will  not  live  with  you  in  strife ;  and  the  terms  you 
dictate  render  concord  impossible.  I  pray  you  not  to 
misunderstand  me !  Too  much  for  both  of  us  is  involved. 
I  do  not  go  away  from  you,  because  I  desire  to  repudiate 
our  marriage  contract,  nor  because  there  lives  on  this 
earth  a  man  whom  my  heart  prefers  before  you.  I  go,  be- 


240  OUT   IN   THE   WOKLD. 

cause  you  will  not  let  me  live  with  you  in  the  freedom  to 
which  every  soul  is  entitled,  and  in  the  equality  that  I 
claim  as  right.  Here  is  the  simple  issue,  as  Heaven  is  my 
witness !  In  whatever  you  elect  to  do,  keep  this  in  mind, 
Carl !  Your  wife  asks  for  love,  and  will  give  love  in  re 
turn  ;  but  if  you  command  obedience,  love  dies.  She 
cannot  dwell  with  you  as  a  slave,  and  will  not  dwell  with 
you  in  open  contention. 

"  My  heart  is  full,  Carl,  and  my  eyes  so  dim  with  tearp, 
that  I  can  scarcely  see  the  page  on  which  I  am  Avriting. 
If  I  were  to  let  my  feelings  have  sway,  there  would  go  to 
you  such  a  wild,  such  an  impassioned  appeal,  as  no  man 
living,  whose  heart  was  not  of  stone,  could  resist.  The 
words  are  pressing,  nay,  almost  imploring,  for  utterance. 
But,  I  press  them  back,  and  keep  silence,  for  I  will  not  bo 
a  beggar  for  the  love  you  promised,  nor  a  craven  to  sub 
mit.  Equal,  Carl !  "We  must  stand  side  by  side  as  equals, 
or  remain  forever  apart. 

"  It  is  vain  to  write  more.  If  you  cannot  comprehend 
the  stern  necessity  that  is  on  me,  after  what  I  have  said, 
further  sentences  will  be  idle.  I  go,  because  you  have  de 
clared  terms  that  make  it  impossible  for  me  to  remain.  I 
will  return,  if  you  write  a  single  line  of  invitation.  If 
you  say  "  come  back,"  I  will  take  it  as  a  hopeful  assurance 
for  the  future.  If  you  keep  silence,  this  separation  is 
eternal !  If  you  wish  to  see  me,  or  write  to  me,  call  or 

send  to  number  560 street. 

MADELINE." 

Two  or  three  times,  as  Carl  Jansen  bent  over  this  let 
ter,  he  caught  his  breath,  and  repressed  a  choking  sob. 
Two  or  three  times  he  wiped  away  the  tears  that  made  hisj 


OUT   IN   THE   WOULD.  241 

eyes  too  dim  to  read  the  sentences.     Once,  under  -the  t 
pressure  of  uncontrollable  emotion,  he  laid  his  face  down 
on  the  writing-desk  before  him  and  wept,  actually  moan 
ing  in  his  weakness  from  mental  pain. 

And  this  was  the  letter  he  had  read,  years  before,  in 
blind  anger,  and  put  away  coldly  and  unrelentingly !  — 
this  letter,  throbbing  in  every  sentence  with  a  love  that 
could  not  die,  though  wronged,  repressed,  and  trampled 
on.  The  true  spirit  and  meaning  of  it  were  felt  and  com 
prehended  now ;  but  it  was  too  late  ! 

Carl  Jansen  folded  the  letter  carefully,  handling  it  like 
some  precious  thing ;  but,  ere  returning  it  to  the  envel 
op,  re-opened  and  read  it  through  again.  With  every 
muscle  of  his  face  quivering  in  lines  of  anguish  and  re 
morse,  he  lifted  his  eyes  upwards,  and  sobbed  out,  "  God 
forgive  me ! " 

Not  long  afterwards,  Mr.  Jansen  rung  for  a  servant. 

"  Tell  Edward  to  bring  the  carriage  'round,"  he  said} 
when  the  servant  appeared. 

"  Mrs.  Jansen  has  the  carriage,"  was  replied. 

"  She  has ! "    In  a  quick  fretting  voice. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Oh,  very  well.  Then  go  and  order  me  a  carriage.  I 
wish  to  ride  out." 

"  No Fourteenth  street,"  was  the  order  given  by 

Mr.  Jansen  as  he  took  his  seat. 

A  ride  of  fifteen  minutes  brought  him  to  the  number 
designated. 

"  Is  Mrs.  Lawrence  at  home  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  answer  being  affirmative,  he  entered,  handing  his 
card  for  the  lady.     Mr.  Jansen  tried  to  be  calm  and  self- 
possessed.     But  this  was  impossible.     When  Mrs.  Law- 
11 


242  OUT   IN    TUB   WORLD. 

rence  met  him  in  the  parlor,  she  found  him  so  agitated, 
that  he  spoke  with  difficulty.  She  was  shocked  at  his 
wan  and  wasted  appearance. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Jansen ! "  she  exclaimed,  in  her  surprise. 
"  I  should  not  have  known  you." 

"  I'm  but  a  wreck,"  he  answered  sadly.  Then  recover 
ing  himself,  as  they  sat  down,  he  added  —  "You  are  of 
course,  a  little  surprised  at  my  visit.  It  concerns  Made 
line." 

He  spoke  the  name  with  a  slight  falling  of  the  voice,  in 
which  Mrs.  Lawrence  was  surprised  to  detect  a  quality  of 
tenderness. 

"  The  past  is  past,"  he  added,  "  and  cannot  be  recalled. 
We  can  only  act  in  the  present.  Do  you  know  where  she 
is?" 

Mrs.  Lawrence  shook  her  head. 

"  How  long  is  it  since  you  heard  of  her  ?  " 

"Not  for  several  years." 

"  I  saw  her  a  year  ago." 

«  You  did !     Where  ?  " 

"At  Newport.  I  am  going  to  talk  with  you  very  frank 
ly —  very  plainly,  Mrs.  Lawrence.  It  may  hurt  and  hum 
ble  me ;  but  I  want  your  assistance,  and  I  must  lay  off 
disguise.  You  are  Madeline's  true  friend ;  I  know  that. 
You  tried  to  save  us  from  the  misery  we  dragged  dowu 
upon  our  heads ;  but  we  were  blind  and  mad,  both  of  us  — 
I,  the  blindest,  the  maddest,  the  most  to  blame  !  I  saw 
Madeline  at  Newport  a  year  ago." 

"  What  Avas  she  doing  there  ?  " 

"  She  was  in  the  family  of  Mr.  B ,  of  Hyde  Park." 

« In  what  relation  ?  " 

Mr.  Jansen  did  not  reply  immediately.  The  answer, 
when  made,  seemed  to  hurt  him  — 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  243 

"  As  a  nurse  to  his  child." 

"  Poor  Madeline !  "  The  voice  of  Mrs.  Lawrence  trem 
bled,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  We  met,  for  a  few  minutes,  in  a  strangely  agitating 
interview ;  one  that  I  cannot  describe.  I  did  not  sec  her 
again  ;  in  fact,  I  was  ill  and  confined  to  my  room  for  two 
or  three  weeks  afterwards." 

"  How  did  she  look  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Lawrence,  in  the 
pause  that  followed. 

"  Pale,  patient,  saintly." 

The  face  of  Mrs.  Lawrence  brightened. 

"  She  is  still  pure  —  still  true  to  honor  and  virtue  ?  " 

"  Pure  as  an  angel ! "  said  Mr.  Jansen,  with  much  feel 
ing.  He  then  bowed  his  head,  and  sat  mute  for  awhile. 

"  What  of  her  since  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  I  know  nothing.  But,  I  can  no  longer  remain  idle  in 
regard  to  her.  She  must  be  removed  from  this  state  of 
dependence.  Madeline  a  servant !  The  thought  torments 
me  like  a  ghost  with  bloody  hands.  I  have  an  abundance, 
which  she  is  justly  entitled  to  share.  I  wish  to  dispense 
a  portion  of  it  for  her  benefit  —  to  settle  upon  her  a  lib 
eral  income.  Will  you  help  me  to  accomplish  this  ?  " 

"  All  that  is  in  my  power  to  do,  shall  be  done,"  replied 
Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  First  we  must  ascertain  where  she  is." 

«Yes." 

"  Will  you  write  to  Mr.  or  Mrs.  B ,  and  ascertain 

if  she  is  still  in  their  family  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  immediately.  But,  I'm  afraid,  Mr.  Jansen,  that 
she  will  not  feel  at  liberty  to  accept  of  anything  at  your 
hands." 

"  Oh,  she  must !  She  must !    Not  at  my  hands  as  a  gift, 


244  OUT  IN   THE   WORLD. 

or  gratuity.  But,  as  an  equitable  transfer  of  what  is  her 
own.  Her  going  away  from  me  —  our  separation  by  di 
vorce  —  was  only  a  personal  event.  In  all  fairness  it  did 
not  touch  her  right  of  property  —  gives  me  no  honest 
claim  to  keep  back  what  was  justly  her  own.  I  now  pro 
pose  restitution.  Personal  matters  are  one  thing.  Rights 
in  property  another." 

"  Where  man  and  wife  are  concerned,  law  and  custom 
decide  differently,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  I  know ;  but  that  doesn't  touch  abstract  rights.  If 
custom  and  the  courts  decide  unjustly  and  oppressively, 
it  is  no  reason  why  my  conscience  should  be  bound.  I 
wish  to  do  justly.  You  see  my  stand  point." 

"  Oh  yes." 

"  And  you  will  do  all  in  your  power  for  Madeline  ?  " 

"  As  if  she  were  my  own  sister." 

"  You  will  write  at  once." 

"To-day." 

"  The  mail  will  go  up  this  afternoon.  There  should  be 
an  answer  by  the  day  after  to-morrow." 

"  Yes." 

"This  is  Wednesday.  I  will  call  on  Friday."  And 
Mr.  Jansen  went  away. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


AVE    you   any    response?"     eagerly 
asked  Mr.  Jansen.    Friday  had  comei 
and  he  was  at  the  residence  of  Mrs. 
Lawrence. 
"Yes." 

"What  is  it?" 
"  Madeline  is  not  there." 
"Not  there!" 

"No.    Here  is  Mrs.  B 's  let 
ter." 

Mr.  Jansen  read  —  "It  is  just  one 
year  since  the  person  about  whom  you  inquire  left  us -under 
peculiar  circumstances,  suddenly.  We  have  not,  since, 
been  able  to  learn  anything  in  regard  to  her,  though  we 
have  made  considerable  inquiry.  Two  months  of  her 
wages  remain  in  our  hands.  If  you  succeed  in  discover 
ing  her,  we  should  like  to  be  informed  of  the  fact,  so  that 
we  can  send  her  the  amount  due." 

Mr.  Jansen,  after  reading  this  letter,  sat,  with  drooping 
head  and  an  air  of  deep  disappointment  for  a  considerable 
time. 


246  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"  The  search  cannot  be  given  up,  Mrs.  Lawrence,"  he 
said,  at  length,  in  a  husky  voice. 

"  I  am  weak.  I  cannot  bear  fatigue  or  excitement.  But, 
if  it  cost  me  my  life,  I  will  find  Madeline  —  that  is,"  lie 
added,  with  a  dropping  of  his  voice,  "  if  she  be  still  living 
in  this  world." 

"If  we  had  any  clue,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"We  must  find  a  clue." 

"An  advertisement  might  reach  her,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Lawrence. 

"  I  will  think  about  that." 

"  It  might  be  so  worded  as  not  to  attract  the  attention 
of  curious  or  meddlesome  people,  aud  yet  indicate  Made 
line  in  a  way  to  makte  her  understand  it.  Turn  the  sug 
gestion  over  in  your  mind.  Perhaps  you  will  see  it  more 
clearly." 

The  suggestion  was  turned  over  in  the  mind  of  Mr. 
Jansen  and  acted  upon.  He  could  see  no  other  way  of 
discovering  Madeline.  The  advertisement  was  in  these 
terms  :  — "  An  old  school  friend  of  Madeline  Spencer 
(Jansen)  desires  to  see  her.  A  line  to  '  Jessie,'  at  this 
office,  giving  address,  will  have  immediate  attention." 

Some  controversy  passed  between  Mrs.  Lawrence  and 
Mr.  Jansen  as  to  the  exact  terms  of  this  advertisement. 
The  delicate  part  Avas  the  name.  There  was  no  knowing 
under  whose  eyes  it  might  fall.  Mr.  Jansen  had  reasons 
of  his  own  for  not  desiring  his  wfe's  attention  in  any 
way  attracted.  For  all  her  selfish  indifference  towards 
him,  she  had,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  evinced  a  jeal 
ous  alertness,  that  surprised  and  annoyed  him.  It  had  not 
escaped  her  notice,  that  a  woman  had  been  found  in  his 
room  at  Newport  on  the  occasion  of  his  sudden  illness. 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  247 

This  woman  left  immediately  on  her  appearance  from  the 
ball-room,  whence  she  had  been  summoned. 

"Who  is  that?"  she  had  asked,  as  Madeline,  retiring 
from  the  bedside,  went  quickly  out  t>f  the  chamber.  The 
alarm  occasioned  by  her  husband's  dangerous  state,  was 
not  strong  enough  to  repress  something  more  than  curi 
osity. 

"One  of  the  nurses,"was  replied  by  the  waiter  who 
had  called  the  physician. 

"  Whose  nurse  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  was  replied. 

On  the  next  day,  Mrs.  Jansen  pursued  the  subject,  and 
ascertained  that  the  woman  she  had  found  in  attendance 

on  her  husband,  was  Mrs.  B 's  nurse.  Singularly 

enough,  as  it  appeared  to  her,  this  nurse  was  nowhere  to 
be  seen.  Two  or  three  times,  during  the  morning,  she 

saw  Mrs.  B ,  and  always  in  attendance  on  her  child. 

Suspense  with  coarse  minds  is  intolerable.  They  will 
break  through  all  delicate  reserves  or  decent  proprieties 

for  relief.  So  Mi-s.  Jansen  accosted  Mrs.  B with 

the  question  — 

"  Where  is  your  nurse,  ma'am  ?  " 

"  She  was  taken  ill,  and  went  away  this  morning,"  re 
plied  Mrs.  B ,  who  knew  her  questioner,  and  felt 

that  she  might  entertain  a  suspicion  of  Madeline's  true 
identity. 

"  Taken  ill !  Why,  what  ailed  her  ?  She  was  well 
enough  last  evening."  There  was  a  rude  abruptness  about 

Mrs.  Jansen  that  Mrs.  B did  not  feel  inclined  to 

tolerate. 

"All  are  subject  to  sudden  illness,"  she  answered,  quiet 
ly,  yet  with  a  studied  reserve  that  was  meant  and  felt  as 
a  rebuke. 


248  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"  Who  is  this  nurse  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Jansen,  in  a  more 
subdued  and  respectful  manner. 

"  She  was  my  nurse.  I  can  answer  in  regard  to  her  no 
farther,  except  it  be  to  speak  of  her  kind  and  dutiful  con 
duct  in  my  family,  and  to  regret  the  circumstance  that  de 
prives  me  of  her  services." 

"  What  is  her  name  ?  " 

"  I  trust  the  sickness  is  only  temporary,  and  that  I  shall 

find  her  at  home  when  I  leave  here,"  said  Mrs.  B , 

not  answering  the  question. 

«  What  did  you  call  her  ?  " 

Mrs.  B stooped  to  give  some  attention  to  little 

Netty,  whom  she  was  holding  by  the  hand.  The  child 
drew  upon  her,  and  wished  to  go  in  from  the  piazza  where 
they  were  standing.  This  afforded  a  plea  for  getting  rid 
of  Mrs.  Jansen.  So,  with  a  polite  inclination  of  the  head 
and  body,  Mrs.  B said  — 

"  Good  morning,  ma'am,"  and  withdrew  into  the  house. 

Curiosity,  baffled,  is  only  increased.  Mrs.  Jansen  made 
another  attempt  to  gain  from  Mrs.  B the  informa 
tion  she  so  much  desired,  but  was  no  more  successfuHhan 
at  first.  Piqued,  annoyed,  and  rendered  more  suspicious 
from  this  appearance  of  mystery,  Mrs.  Jansen  tried,  by 
inquiries  among  the  servants,  to  learn  something  about 
Madeline.  But  none  of  them  knew  anything  about  her. 

"  Did  you  know  that  woman  I  found  here  on  the  night 
you  were  taken  sick  ? "  she  asked,  abruptly,  of  Mr.  Jan 
sen,  as  she  stood  at  his  bedside  on  the  second  day  after  the 
serious  attack  we  have  described,  and  while  he  was  yet  in 
a  very  weak  and  dangerous  condition.  The  question 
made  him  start. 

"  Which  ?  "  he  inquired,  with  an  effort  to  seem  indiffer- 


OUT   IN   THE    WORLD.  249 

ent  that  was  not  entirely  successful.  Suspicion  gives 
keenness  of  perception.  Mrs.  Jansen  saw  down  through 
this  veil. 

"  Why,  the  woman  who  was  holding  your  head,  and 
putting  the  salt  and  water  to  your  lips !  You  know  who 
I  mean." 

"  Oh,  yes.  She  was  in  the  passage  when  I  ran  to  the 
door  in  alarm.  I  might  have  died  but  for  her  prompt  as 
sistance,"  Mr.  Jansen  replied,  feebly,  shutting  his  eyes  and 
turning  his  face  to  the  wall. 

"  You  knew  her ! "  said  his  wife,  sharply,  with  accusa 
tion  and  reproach  blending  in  her  voice. 

"  How  should  I  know  ?  "  Mr.  Jansen  did  not  lift  his 
eyelids,  nor  turn  his  head.  Taking  the  case  as  it  stood,  he 
felt  the  necessity  of  concealment  and  circumspection ;  and 
so,  even  in  his  weakness,  exercised  strength  of  will.  His 
condition  was  his  refuge. 

"How  should  you  know  her?  This  is  just  the  ques 
tion.  Of  course,  you  did  know  her !  That  is  plain ! " 

So  she  probed  him ;  but  he  kept  silent  —  and  ever  after 
kept  silent  Avhen  she  touched  the  subject. 

From  this  it  will  be  seen  upon  what  delicate  ground 
Mr.  Jansen  was  treading.  He  understood  the  dfficulties 
by  which  he  was  environed,  yet  did  not  hesitate.  The 
object  in  view  raised  him  above  all  hindering  questions. 
He  did  not  wish  the  advertisement  to  fail,  and  so,  after 
much  debate  with  himself,  resolved  to  give  it  the  wording 
we  have  seen.  He  knew,  of  course,  that  if  it  met  his 
wife's  eyes,  it  would  subject  him  to  sharp  and  suspicious 
interrogation.  But,  he  trusted  in  his  power  to  veil  every 
thing  under  an  habitual  cold  and  unemotional  exterior 

11* 


250  OUT   IN   THE    WORLD. 

He  did  not  know  that  his  wife's  suspicions  were  aroused 
in  advance,  and  that  she  was  already  on  his  track. 

It  so  happened,  that  Mrs.  Jansen  was  riding  past  the 
house  of  Mrs.  Lawrence  at  the  very  time  her  husband  was 
entering  it,  on  the  day  he  first  went  there  to  make  inquir 
ies  about  Madeline.  She  had  seen  him  standing  at  the 
door,  but  with  his  face  turned  from  her.  The  form  seemed 
so  like  his,  that  she  was  startled  by  the  resemblance.  She 
drove  home  immediately,  and  found  that  he  had  gone  out 
in  a  hired  carriage.  A  host  of  wild  suspicions  was  born 
instantly  in  her  breast.  Her  first  thought  was  to  order 
the  coachman  to  drive  her  back  into  the  neighborhood 
where  she  had  seen  her  husband ;  but  this,  on  reflection, 
'was  deemed  imprudent.  The  house  she  had  seen  him  en 
ter  was  one  in  a  row  of  six  or  eight,  precisely  alike  in  ex 
ternal  appearance.  She  had  failed  to  note  it  so  particu 
larly  as  to  insure  identification.  Mrs.  Jansen  was  annoyed 
at  this  impediment. 

"  I'll  catch  him,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  I'll  find  him  out. 
I'll  know  just  where  he  has  been,  and  who  he  visits." 

"  Oh  !  So  you've  been  taking  a  ride  to  yourself,"  she 
said,  in  a  half  querulous,  half  bantering  tone,  when  Mr. 
Jansen  returned.  "  Why  didn't  you  say  that  you  wanted 
the  carriage  ?  I  could  have  walked." 

"  I  didn't  think  of  going  until  you  were  away.  But, 
no  matter.  The  carriage  I  had  was  very  easy." 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  "  The  woman's  keen  eyes 
were  fixed  on  his  face,  and  he  knew  it. 

"  I  only  took  a  short  ride,"  was  answered.  "  The  day 
being  fine,  I  knew  the  air  would  refresh  me." 

"  Did  you  stop  anywhere  ?  " 

«Yes." 


OUT   IN    THE   WOULD.  251 

"  Where  ?  "    Very  imperatively. 

Mr.  Jansen  turned  and  looked  at  his  wife  steadily  for 
some  moments.  Then  answered  coldly,  and  without 
taking  his  eyes  from  her  face  — 

"  Pray  "  when  did  you  acquire  the  right  to  question  me 
in  regard  to  my  outgoings  and  my  incomings  ?  " 

He  still  kept  his  eyes  upon  her.  Mrs,  Jansen's  face  grew 
livid,  and  then  very  pale.  A  storm  gathered  swiftly  in 
her  breast ;  but  she  held  it  back  from  bursting. 

"  Oh,  just  as  you  like  ! "  she  answered,  a  gurgling  laugh 
in  her  throat.  It  did  not  fall  upon  her  husband's  ears 
like  a  human  laugh. 

Each  was  willing  to  retire  from  the  conflict,  but  for 
different  reasons. 

Under  this  aspect  of  affairs,  it  was  risking  something  to 
let  the  name  "Jansen"  appear  in  the  advertisement  for 
Madeline.  But,  after  weighing  every  consideration  that 
presented  itself,  Mr.  Jansen  decided  as  we  have  seen. 

A  very  intimate  acquaintance  called  to  see  Mrs.  Jansen 
on  the  day  this  advertisement  appeared.  She  had  encoun 
tered  it  in  looking  over  the  "  Times,"  and  could  not  rest 
until  she  had  brought  it  to  the  notice  of  her  friend. 

"  Have  you  seen  that  ?  "  she  said,  on  meeting  Mrs.  Jan 
sen,  handing  her,  with  a  look  of  mystery,  the  advertise 
ment  she  had  cut  from  the  morning  paper. 

Mrs.  Jansen  devoured  it  with  her  eyes  greedily. 

"  Madeline  Spencer  (Jansen)  !  What  does  it  mean  ?  " 
She  looked  at  her  friend  in  blank  astonishment. 

"  That's  just  it !  What  does  it  mean  ?  I  thought,  may 
be,  you  hadn't  seen  it,  and  so  I  put  on  my  things  and  ran 
right  around  here." 

"  It  was  considerate  of  you.    Madeline  Spencer  (Jan- 


252  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

sen)  !  An  old  school  friend  desires  to  sec  her.  'Jessie: 
Who's  '  Jessie,'  I  wonder  ?  " 

"And  who's  Madeline  Spencer  (Jansen)  asked  the 
friend. 

"  I  know ! "  A  strong,  red  light  flashing  into  Mrs.  Jan- 
sen's  face.  "  I  know ! "  And  she  gripped  her  hands,  and 
shut  her  teeth  firmly. 

"Who?" 

Mrs.  Jansen  bent  towards  her  friend,  and  whispered 
huskily  — 

"His first  wife!" 

"Who's?    Mr.Jansen's?" 

"  Yes  —  yes.  I've  had  a  suspicion  that  something  was 
brewing.  Of  course,  I  talk  to  you  as  if  you  were  my  own 
sister ;  and  you'll  be  as  close  as  death." 

"His  first  wife!" 

"  That  was  her  name  —  Madeline  Spencer." 

"  Goodness  !  I  thought  she  died  years  ago.  But,  what 
do  you  make  of  this  effort  to  find  her  by  some  old  friend  ? 
You've  had  suspicions,  you  say.  About  what  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Something's  in  the  wind  —  that's  sure- 
It  was  thoughtful  in  you  to  bring  me  this  advertisement." 

"  Suppose  you  answer  it  ?  " 

Mrs.  Jansen  turned  this  suggestion  over  in  her  mind  be 
fore  responding. 

"  A  line,  giving  address,  will  have  immediate  attention. 
I'm  not  Madeline  Spencer  Jansen,  and  can't  give  the  re 
quired  address." 

"That  doesn't  signify,"  returned  the  friend.  "-Send  a 
note  to  the  office,  asking  for  this  '  Jessie's '  address.  You'll 
get  a  reply,  and  so  find  out  who  '  Jessie '  is." 

"  Maybe  yes,  and  maybe  no.     Some  people  are  mighty 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  253 

cute.  '  Jessie '  wants  Madeline's  address  ;  and  until  she 
gets  that,  will  hardly  give  her  own.  I'll  tell  you  what's 
come  into  my  mind.  You'll  help  me  all  you  can  ?  " 

"  Dont  fear  for  that.     Say  on,  Mrs.  Jansen." 

"  You  answer  the  advertisement." 

"How?" 

"  Pretend  to  be  this  Madeline." 

"  But,  I  must  give  an  address." 

"  That  may  be  managed,  I  think." 

"  I  don't  see  the  way." 

"  Of  course,  you  can't  see  her  at  your  own  house. 
Somewhere  else  must  be  found.  I'll  tell  you  who  might 
be  trusted.  She's  under  obligations  and  will  do  anything 
for  you." 

"  Jane  Bradley,  the  dressmaker  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Jansen.  "  Jane  has  over  half  a 
dozen  workwomen,  and  you  might  personate  one  of  them. 
as  '  Madeline.'  You  need'nt  go  very  far,  you  know.  All 
we  are  after,  is  to  find  out  who  this  '  Jessie'  is,  and  what 
she  wants." 

"  Do  you  think  Jane  Bradley  can  be  trusted  ?  "  asked 
the  friend. 

"  I've  not  a  doubt  of  it." 

The  dressmaker  was  approached  by  the  friend  of  Mrs. 
Jansen,  and  found  pliable.  She  was  a  thoughtless  woman, 
fond  of  excitement  or  adventure,  and  not  apt  to  consider 
consequences.  A  note  was  sent  to  the  "Times"  office 
by  the  pretended  "  Madeline,"  asking  for  an  interview  at 
the  dressmaker's.  The  first  impulse  of  Mrs.  Lawrence 
was  to  go ;  but,  on  reflection,  she  concluded  to  wait  until 
Mr.  Jansen  called,  and  submit  the  note  to  him. 

"Not  our  Madeline,"  said  Mr.  Jansen,  in  a  tone  of 
disappointment,  on  reading  the  note. 


254  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"  Why  do  you  think  so  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  This  is  written  by  an  uneducated  person.  You  see 
the  bad  spelling,  and  the  cramped,  heavy  hand." 

"  True.     I  hadn't  considered  that." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Mr.  Jansen,  in  a  thoughtful,  perplexed 
way,  "  there  is  something  familiar  about  the  writing.  It 
isn't  Madeline's  I  know." 

"  Perhaps  she  is  ill.  This  may  have  been  written  at 
her  dictation,"  suggested  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  Then  she  would  have  had  the  fact  stated."  Mr.  Jansen 
lifted  the  note  and  read  it  over  once  more. 

"  At  Jane  Bradley's ! "  he  exclaimed,  his  whole  manner 
putting  on  a  new  aspect. 

"  Who  is  Jane  Bradley  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  My  wife's  dressmaker ! "  There  was  a  look  of  blank 
discomfiture  in  his  countenance.  "  And  now  I  recognize 
the  hand-writing  of  this  note.  It  is  my  wife's  penman 
ship." 

The  face  of  Mrs.  Lawrence  showed  alarm. 

"  I  have  made  a  narrow  escape,"  she  said.  "  This 
ground  is  not  safe  for  me." 

Mrs.  Lawrence  glanced  through  the  closed  Venetian 
shutters  as  she  spoke.  She  had  turned  her  head  so  that 
the  expression  of  her  countenance  might  not  be  seen  by 
Mr.  Jansen. 

"  Do  you  know  that  woman  ? "  She  spoke  quickly, 
with  concern  in  her  voice. 

Mr.  Jansen  arose,  and  looked  out  from  behind  the  shut 
ters. 

"  There  she  is,  walking  slowly  down  on  the  other  side. 
I've  seen  her  about  here  three  or  four  times  in  the  last 
two  days.  Once  she  came  up  our  steps  and  examined  the 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  255 

door,  evidently  searching  for  an  address,  i  saw  her  do 
the  same  thing  next  door.  .  There !  She  has  stopped  and 
is  looking  round.  You  see  her  face.  Do  you  know  her  ?  " 

Mr.  Jansen  moved  quickly  back  from  the  window,  and 
sat  down. 

"  Do  you  know  her  ?  "  repeated  Mrs  Lawrence,  moving 
back  also,  and  confronting  Mr.  Jansen. 

"Yes." 

«  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"A  woman  I  detest.  One  of  my  wife's  particular 
friends." 

They  were  silent  for  some  time,  Mrs.  Lawrence  stand 
ing  and  her  visitor  sitting.  The  latter  spoke  first. 

"  One  thing  is  plain,"  he  said,  "  It  will  not  do  for  me  to 
come  here  any  more." 

u  Not  on  any  consideration,"  replied  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"And  yet  I  cannot  give  up  this  search  for  Madeline  — 
I  cannot,  and  I  will  not!"  Mr.  Jansen  spoke  with  deci 
sion. 

"  Some  other  means  must  be  adopted.  You  see  in 
what  a  questionable  position  I  am  standing,"  said  Mrs. 
Lawrence.  "My  husband  would  be  angry  if  he  knew 
what  I  had  done.  He  has,  like  all  of  us,  his  peculiar 
ways  of  thinking;  and  is  particularly  sensitive  about 
getting  mixed  up,  as  he  calls  it,  with  other  people's  affairs. 
I  wanted  to  talk  with  him  about  this  matter,  and  get  his 
approval  of  what  I  was  doing,  but  I  feared  an  opposition 
so  decided  that  I  could  not  act  against  it.  My  heart  was 
with  Madeline,  and  for  her  sake,  I  have  done  what  would 
seriously  displease  my  husband  if  it  should  come  to  his 
ears,  even  without  bias  or  exaggeration.  But,  now  that 
your  wife's  suspicions  are  aroused ;  now  that  she  answers 


256  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

my  advertisement,  and  sets  a  watch  upon  my  house,  it  is 
full  time  that  I  retraced  the  steps  I  have  taken." 

"  Will  you  not  send  to  the  Times  office  again  ?  Made 
line  may  see  th'e  advertisement  and  answer  it." 

"  I'm  afraid  to  take  another  step  forward,  Mr.  Jansen,  as 
things  now  are.  The  imprudence  of  letting  my  Christian 
name  appear  in  the  advertisement,  was  very  great.  I  was 
so  intent  on  having  Madeline  recognize  the  hand  of  a 
friend,  that  I  did  not  consider  its  personal  bearing  on  my 
self.  My  husband  is  as  likely  to  see  it  as  any  one  else." 

"  Perhaps,"  suggested  Mr.  Jansen,  "  it  will  be  safest,  all 
things  considered,  to  tell  your  husband  the  whole  story 
from  beginning  to  end." 

The  rattle  of  a  key  was  heard  that  moment  in  the  front 
door.  Mrs.  Lawrence  started,  changed  color,  and  looked 
frightened. 

"  My  husband  !  "  she  ejaculated.  But  instantly  regain 
ed  her  composure. 

"All  must  now  be  told,"  she  said.  "Manifest  no  dis 
turbance,  and  leave  all  to  me." 

There  was  a  heavy  frown  on  the  face  of  Mr.  Lawrence, 
as  a  moment  afterwards,  he  stood  in  the  parlor  door.  His 
wife  went  towards  him,  smiling,  and  said,  introducing  her 
visitor  — 

"  Mr.  Jansen." 

The  latter,  with  more  self-possession  than  he  had  hoped 
to  assume,  arose,  and  took  the  hand  which  Mr.  Lawrence 
could  not  help  offering. 

"  We  are  secret  plotters,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence,  with  an 
ease  of  manner  that  took  Mr.  Jansen  by  surprise;  "and 
now  that  you  have  come  in  so  opportunely,  or,  inoppor 
tunely  as  the  sequel  may  prove  we  must  take  you  into  our 


OUT   IN   THE    WORLD.  257 

counsels.  I  know  that  you  are  not  good  at  working  un 
derground  ;  still,  in  the  multitude  of  counsellors  there  is 
said  to  be  wisdom,  and  you  may  be  of  signal  service." 

"  No,  I  am  not  good  at  working  in  the  dark,"  replied 
Mr.  Lawrence,  scarcely  relaxing  in  anything  his  severe 
manner.  "Above  board  is  my  motto,  always.  More 
harm  than  good  comes  of  these  secret  doings." 

"All  rules  have  their  exceptions,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence. 
"Where  the  end  is  pure  and  humane,  and  it  cannot  be 
reached,  through  the  interference  of  wrong-minded  peo 
ple,  if  pursued  in  common  observation,  it  is  right  to  work 
in  secret.  And  this  is  just  what  we  have  been  doing. 
The  end  has  been  good  to  one  and  harm  to  none.  If  any 
come  in  and  try  to  make  harm,  the  evil  is  with  them.  But 
this  to  you  is  unintelligible.  Let  me  lift  the  veil  and  show 
you  just  what  has  been  purposed,  and  what  has  been  done." 
Mrs.  Lawrence  then  related,  without  concealment  of 
anything,  what  the  reader  knows  of  their  efforts  to  dis 
cover  Madeline.  With  a  womanly  tact  and  eloquence, 
against  which  the  most  implacable  natures  are  not  always 
able  to  protect  themselves,  she  managed  to  interest  her 
husband's  feelings.  Suspicion  was  disarmed,  when  he 
knew  the  whole  truth.  We  say  suspicion,  for  that  had 
been  awakened  by  an  anonymous  letter,  the  receipt  of 
which  had  brought  him  home  at  an  unusual  hour.  The 
letter  was  from  the  hand  of  Mrs.  Jansen. 

"  And  now,  Henry,  that  you  know  all  about  these  secret 
doings,  will  you  not  give  us  the  benefit  of  your  clear 
judgment,  your  skill,  and  your  prudence.  We  must  find 
Madeline  if  she  be  living.  Mr.  Jansen's  relation  to  the 
matter  is  delicate,  and  exceedingly  embarrassing.  He 
cannot  move  a  step  without  exciting  a  jealous  suspicion ; 


258  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

nor  without  danger  of  misjudgment.  We  might,  in  the 
cause  of  justice  and  humanity,  take  this  work  into  our 
own  hands,  and  do  it  in  our  own  way.  Acting  with  my 
husband,  I  should  then  be  safe  from  unjust  judgment. 
There  is  no  danger,  here,  of  getting  mixed  up  with  other 
people's  affairs  —  your  peculiar  horror.  It  is  a  plain  case. 
We  have,  simply,  to  find  Madeline,  and  do  for  her  what 
Mr.  Jansen  may  request.  He  can  see  you  at  your  store} 
and  the  business  upon  which  he  calls  be  your  own  affair, 
and  out  of  the  reach  of  meddlesome  curiosity." 

Mr.  Lawrence  dropped  his  eyes,  and  pondered  the  mat 
ter  for  a  good  while.  All  his  natural  inclinations  and  pe 
culiar  modes  of  thinking,  were  in  opposition.  He  be 
longed  to  that  class  of  men  who  consider  the  time  lost 
that  is  occupied  in  other  people's  affairs.  He  asked  no 
one  to  look  after  him  or  his  —  he  was  competent  to  take 
care  of  his  own  concerns  —  so  he  thought,  and  so  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  expressing  himself.  Trouble  was  involved 
in  all  this  that  he  was  called  upon  to  do ;  trouble  that 
brought  no  reward^.  But,  how  could  he  say  no  ?  It  was 
a  case  from  which  he  could  not  turn  himself,  and  escape 
the  charge  of  inhumanity.  Moreover,  something  in  his 
wife's  appeal,  and  something  in  the  grieving  sadness  of 
Mr.  Jansen's  wan  and  wasted  countenance,  touched  his 
pity,  and  moved  him  to  consent. 

"  If  I  can  serve  you,  in  this,  Mr.  Jansen,"  he  said,  with 
far  more  of  sympathy  in  his  manner  than  his  wife  had 
hoped  for,  "  I  will  do  so  cheerfully." 

Mr.  Lawrence  looked  from  Mr.  Jansen  to  his  wife,  as 
he  thus  answered,  and  saw  light  gleam  over  her  face  ;  a 
light  that  made  her  look  doubly  beautiful.  She  turned 
upon  him  eyes  full  of  gratitude  and  pleasure ;  eyes,  in 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  259 

which  he  saw  more  of  the  old  regard  and  tenderness  than 
had  been  manifested  for  a  long  time. 

"  You  have  lifted  a  heavy  weight  that  was  bearing  me 
down,"  said  Mr.  Jansen.  "  My  heart  is  very  grateful. 
Mrs.  Lawrence  knows  my  views  about  Madeline,  and  will 
communicate  them.  I  leave  all  the  means  of  finding  her  in 
your  hands.  Do  for  her,  if  found,  all  that  your  judgment 
and  feelings  warrant,  and  I  will  bear  the  cost.  Oh,  my 
friends ! "  —  and  his  voice  trembled  —  "  let  me  beg  of  you 
to  fail  in  no  effort.  I  believe  her  to  be  pure  and  true.  I 
saw  her  a  year  ago,  and  read  her  face.  It  was  written  all 
over  with  lines  of  suffering,  of  patience,  and  of  resigna 
tion.  She  passed  me,  as  a  rebuking  spirit ;  and  yet,  laid 
on  me,  tenderly  and  forgivingly,  the  hand  of  blessing  as 
she  passed.  When  I  think  of  what  she  has  suffered  —  of 
what  she  may  now  be  suffering,  I  am  so  deeply  pained 
that  I  can  scarcely  endure  the  anguish.  I  am  wasting,  as 
you  see.  My  strength  is  gone.  I  am  of  but  little  more 
use  in  this  world.  But,  this  work  of  mercy  my  hands 
must  do  if  I  fail  in  everything  else." 

"  Leave  all  to  us,"  replied  Mr.  Lawrence,  with  an  inter 
est  in  Madeline's  case  that  surprised  even  himself.  "  We 
will  do  all  that  lies  in  our  power.  If  living,  we  will  cer 
tainly  find  her." 

"  Thus  assured,  Mr.  Jansen  went  away,  Mr.  Lawrence 
accompanying  him  to  the  door.  As  they  stood  talking 
just  within  the  vestibule,  the  woman  noticed  by  Mrs. 
Lawrence  went  past  again,  on  the  other  side.  She  saw 
Mr.  Jansen,  and  quickening  her  pace,  hurried  out  of  sight. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


HREE  months  later.  Madeline  is  still 
a  tenant  with  the  Jackmans.  It  is  mid 
winter.  She  occupies  the  room  in  the 
second  story  where  we  last  saw  her. 
Bureau  and  bedstead  are  gone.  The 
only  furniture  to  be  seen  is  a  thin  bed 
on  the  floor  spread  with  a  faded  chintz 
comfortable,  a  small  pine  table,  and  a 
single  chair.  The  room  is  chilly,  and 
Madeline  sits  crouching  with  an  old 
shawl  drawn  tightly  about  her  shoul 
ders,  near  the  fire-place,  where  a  few  sticks  are  burning 
On  the  table,  which  has  been  drawn  near  the  fire-place, 
lies  some  needlework. 

Three  months  have  done  their  wasting  work  on  Made 
line.  She  was  sick  when  we  saw  her  last ;  too  sick  to 
bear  up  and  continue  the  work  by  which  the  wolf  of  star 
vation  was  to  be  kept  from  her  door.  After  a  week  of 
mental  and  bodily  prostration,  she  had  rallied  again,  and 
gone  on  with  her  weary  tasks.  Mrs.  Jackman  acceded 


OUT   IN    THE   WOELD.  261 

to  her  proposition  about  the  bureau,  and  took  it  in  the 
place  of  money,  so  cancelling  the  rent  obligation.  But  as 
the  weeks  gathered  themselves  into  months,  the  rent 
again  accumulated,  for  Madeline's  strength  was  little  more 
than  feebleness  itself,  and  all  she  could  earn  was  consumed 
in  fuel,  food  and  medicine.  Then  the  landlord  became 
restless  again,  and  demanded  of  his  wife  the  removal  of 
their  unprofitable  tenant.  He  was  pacified  on  the  relin- 
quishment  by  Madeline  of  her  bedstead,  two  chairs,  and 
a  fine  lace  collar,  which  were  sold  for  more  than  the  sum 
actually  due.  Mrs.  Jackman  could  not  find  it  in  her  heart 
to  turn  the  poor  sick  woman  out  of  doors.  She  was  so 
gentle,  so  patient,  "just  like  a  hurt  lamb,"  she  said,  that 
she  could'nt  act  towards  her  in  the  hard,  selfish  way  she 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  acting  towards  people  of  her 
own  class.  And  so  she  had  continued  to  stand  between 
between  her  tenant  and  her  husband. 

But,  even  Mrs.  Jackman  saw  that  there  must  come  an 
end  to  this  condition  of  things.  Mrs.  Spencer  grew 
weaker  as  the  days  went  on.  Bureau,  bedstead,  and 
chairs  were  gone,  and  the  earnings  diminished  instead  of 
increasing.  When  the  winter  days  came  on,  Mrs.  Spen 
cer  found  herself  too  thinly  cladto  go  for  her  work.  Pity 
ing  her  condition,  Mrs.  Jackman  took  the  work  home  for 
her,  and  brought  back  a  new  supply. 

At  Christmas,  Madeline  was  again  in  debt  for  her  room. 

"  It's  no  use,  Kitty,"  said  Jackman  to  his  wife.  "  I'm 
going  to  put  my  foot  down  once  for  all.  That  woman'll 
have  to  leave." 

"  I  wish  she  were  in  a  better  place,"  answered  Mrs. 
Jackman.  "  And  she  will  be,  I'm  thinking,  before  many 
months  go  over  her  head.  D'you  know,  John,  she  talks 


262  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

about  dying  just  as  I'd  talk  about  going  on  a  visit  some 
where.  She  isn't  the  least  bit  afraid  of  death.  It  makes 
me  feel  strange  to  hear  her." 

"  Then,  my  advice  to  her  is,  to  die  at  once,"  replied  Jack- 
man,  roughly.  "  She  can't  be  any  worse  off  than  she  is  here. 
And  she  must  do  it  quickly,  or  she  can't  have  the  privi 
lege  in  my  house.  But  jesting  aside,  Kitty,  I'm  not  going 
to  fool  with  her  any  longer.  She  owes,  now,  more  than 
her  duds  will  sell  for,  and  every  day  she  keeps  that  room 
is  money  out  of  my  pocket.  If  she  has  no  friends  to  look 
after  her,  she  must  go  to  the  poor-house,  and  the  sooner 
you  let  her  know  what's  to  come,  the  more  time  she'll  have 
to  get  ready.  Next  week  she  must  be  out  of  that  room. 
On  Monday  I  shall  put  up  a  bill." 

"Don't  say  that,  John!  "  replied  his  wife,  with  unusual 
sobriety  of  manner.  "  No  good  will  come  of  hard  treat 
ment  to  this  woman.  I  can't  tell  why  it  is ;  but  I  feel 
strangely  about  it.  There's  something  in  her  that's  un 
common,  like." 

"  You  always  were  a  fool,  Kitty ! "  retorted  Jackman, 
half  angrily.  "I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  hard 
treatment.  The  city  and  county  take  care  of  the  poor. 
That's  what  the  alms-house  is  for.  That's  what  I  pay  a 
tax  for.  Do  you  think  I'm  going  to  fill  my  house  with 
paupers  ?  Not  I !  John  Jackman  isn't  quite  a  born  fool. 
I  don't  see  what's  come  over  you,  Kitty.  Ever  since  this 
woman  came  into  our  house,  you've  acted  as  if  you  were 
afraid  of  her." 

"  No,  John,  not  afraid  of  her.  That  isn't  it  at  all.  I've 
pitied  her,  poor  weak  thing !  She  isn't  like  the  people 
I've  been  used  to  seeing,  or  she'd  been  sent  adrift  long  and 
long  ago.  I  can't  just  say  what  it  is,  but  there's  some- 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  263 

thing  about  her  that  makes  my  heart  soft.  Just  let  her 
stay  through  the  winter." 

"  No ! "  Jackman  spoke  with  a  strong  impulse  in  his 
voice. 

"  It  wont  be  anything  out  of  our  pockets,  John." 

"  Of  course  not !  She'll  pay  like  a  queen,"  he  answered 
with  irony. 

"  It  wont  be  in  the  long  run,  I  mean.  D'you  know,  John, 
that  a  verse  in  the  Bible  which  I  read  when  I  was  a  little 
girl,  keeps  all  the  while  coming  into  my  mind.  I  haven't 
thought  of  it  before  for  a  dozen  years.  'He  that  giveth 
to  the  poor,  lendeth  to  the  Lord,  and  He  will  repay  him 
again.'  That's  it,  as  near  as  I  can  remember.  It  seems 
as  if  it  was  meant  just  for  us." 

"  Pooh !  Pooh !  Stuff !  I  guess,  if  the  truth  were 
know,  it  would  be  found  that  Mrs.  Spencer  put  this  into 
your  head.  People  like  her  are  smart." 

"  No,  John.  Mrs.  Spencer  never  repeated  that  verse  in 
my  hearing.  It  came  up  all  of  itself.  I  tried  not  to  think 
of  it,  but  the  moi'e  I  tried,  the  more  it  would  come  up. 
She's  poor,  and  sick  —  dying  I  might  say.  Now,  it  wont 
be  much  for  us,  John,  just  to  let  her  stay  where  she  is  'till 
spring ;  or,  maybe,  not  'till  longer  than  February.  She 
isn't  going  to  trouble  anybody  very  long." 

"I  said  no,  and  I  mean  no!  "  Mr.  Jackman  showed  in 
creasing  irritation.  "  Next  week  she  must  go  or  pay  her 
rent.  'Tisn't  any  use  in  you  to  bamboozle  about  her  any 
longer.  I've  put  my  foot  down  and  it  shall  stay  down. 
The  money  due  must  be  paid  or  she  goes  out.  You'll  tell 
her  so  at  once." 

"It's  no  use,  John,"  replied  Mrs  Jackman,  "I  can't  give 
her  warning.  You  must  do  it  yourself,  if  it's  done  at  all." 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD 

The  man  grew  very  angry  at  this,  swore  bitterly,  and 
stormed  about  in  a  fruitless  rage.  Twice  he  started  for 
the  stairway,  asserting  that  he  would  make  short  work  of 
it  with  Mrs.  Spencer  ;  but,  some  thing  held  him  back. 

"  I'll  call  in  a  policeman  and  have  her  taken  off,"  he  said, 
at  length,  catching  up  his  hat  and  going  out.  Mrs.  Jack- 
man  understood  her  husband's  character,  and  did  not  feel 
concerned  at  this  threat. 

A  little  while  afterwards  she  went  up  to  Mrs  Spencer's 
room.  She  found  Madeline  crouching  near  a  few  burning 
sticks  in  the  fire-place,  a  thin  shawl  clutched  tightly 
around  her  shoulders  —  shivering.  The  air  struck  coldly 
on  the  face  of  Mrs.  Jackman. 

" Indeed,  indeed,  ma'am,  this  will  never  do!"  said  the 
landlord's  wife.  "  Your  room  is  as  chilly  as  a  barn.  You'll 
get  your  death  a  cold."  She  stood  for  a  few  moments  and 
then  went  out  quickly ;  but  soon  returned  with  an  armful 
of  light  wood. 

"  There,"  she  said,  when  a  bright  blaze  glowed  on  the 
hearth,  "  that  will  do  some  good.  I'll  bring  you  up  two 
or  three  armfuls.  You  must  keep  warm,  Mrs.  Spencer. 
And  now  it  just  comes  to  me.  There's  a  society  that 
gives  out  small  stoves  and  coal  to  poor  people.  Mrs. 
Blunt  was  speaking  about  it  last  week.  I'll  go  right 
away  and  see  if  I  can't  get  you  a  stove  and  half  a  ton  of 
coal." 

"  Oh,  if  you  could ! "  A  faint  light  came  into  Mad 
eline's  wasted  countenance.  "How  thankful  I  would 
be,"  she  added,  in  a  grateful  roice. 

*'  If  it's  to  be  done,  I'm  the  one  to  do  it,"  replied  Mrs. 
Jackman.  "Nothing  stops  me  when  I  once  get  a  thing 
into  my  head.  As  my  husband  says,  I'll  go  through  lire 


OUT   IN   THE    WORLD.  265 

and  water  to  gain  my  ends.      So,  you  may  count  on  the 
stove  and  coal  if  they  are  to  be  had." 

Mrs.  Jackman  went  out  full  of  this  new  purpose.  She 
found  sundry  impediments  in  her  way ;  but  a  strong  will 
removed  them.  In  less  than  two  hours  from  the  time  she 
set  about  her  work  it  was  accomplished,  and  a  small,  hot 
stove  sent  its  genial  warmth  into  every  comer  of  Made 
line's  room. 

"  This  is  comfortable,"  she  said,  as  she  felt  the  pleasant 
heat,  and  saw  Madeline  lay  off  her  shawl.  But,  even  as 
she  spoke,  the  nakedness  of  the  room,  and  its  comfortless 
aspect,  struck  her  unpleasantly.  At  the  same  time,  some 
thing  like  shame,  or  guilt,  troubled  her  feelings.  Why 
was  this  poor  sick  woman's  room  so  naked  ?  Who  had 
taken  bedstead,  bureau,  chairs,  carpet?  The  smile  of 
self-satisfaction  died  out  of  Mrs.  Jackman's  face.  The 
little  she  had  just  done  for  this  woman,  seemed  as  no 
thing  in  view  of  what  she  arid  her  husband  had  done 
against  her.  She  felt  as  if  she  had  been  a  robber  and  an 
oppressor.  She  turned  her  face  away,  as  Madeline  laid  a 
hand  on  her  arm,  and  said,  gratefully  —  almost  tearfully  — 

"  God  bless  you,  Mrs.  Jackman !  I  cannot  find  words 
in  which  to  speak  my  gratitude.  If  I  never  repay  you» 
He  will  not  fail." 

"Oh,  it's  nothing  —  nothing!"  answered  Mrs.  Jackman, 
not  able  to  repress  a  disturbed  feeling,  and  still  keeping 
her  face  turned  aside.  "I'd  not  deserve  the  name  of  a 
woman,  if  I  kept  back  from  a  trifle  like  this." 

And  Mrs.  Jackman  went  down  stairs,  glad  to  escape 
from  the  presence  of  Madeline,  in  whose  grateful  expres 
sions  her  heart  found  more  of  rebuke  than  blessing. 

12 


266  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

Mr.  Jackman  came  home  while  a  portion  of  Madeline's 
half  ton  of  coal  still  lay  on  the  side  walk. 

"  What  does  that  mean  ?  "  he  demanded  of  his  wife, 
referring  to  the  coal. 

"  It  means,"  she  answered,  that  a  charitable  society  has 
sent  Mrs.  Spencer  a  stove  and  some  coal." 

"  Did  they  send  money  to  pay  her  rent  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Then  they  can  take  them  back  again.  No  stove  shall 
be  put  up  in  my  house." 

"  The  stove  is  up  already,"  said  Mrs.  Jackman,  quietly. 

"  And  you  permitted  it  to  be  done  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  I'll  pitch  it  out  of  the  window,  and  the  woman 
after  it !  "  Jackman  was  furious.  His  wife  remained  silent. 

"Have  you  told  her  that  she  must  go  next  week?" 
Jackman  confronted  his  wife  with  a  menacing  look.  His 
passions  were,  at  times,  uncontrollable.  More  than  once 
he  had  struck  her. 

"  I  have  not."  Her  calm  voice  and  steady  eyes  mastered 
him.  "  That  must  be  your  work,  as  I  have  already  said." 

"  It  shall  be  my  work !  "  exclamed  Jackman,  and  he 
left  the  room,  and  went  with  a  heavy,  stumbling  tread  up 
stairs.  His  wife  did  not  follow  him  ;  but  sat  down,  fold 
ing  her  hands,  to  await  the  result. 

A  pale,  startled  face,  met  Jackman  as  he  pushed  open 
the  door  of  Madeline's  room  —  a  pale,  startled  face,  and 
large  brown  eyes,  soft,  tender,  suffering,  questioning. 
Madeline  had  drawn  her  single  chair  near  the  window, 
and  was  sewing.  She  arose  on  her  landlord's  entrance, 
and  stood  bending  a  little  forward,  with  her  eyes  fixed 
»»on  him. 


OUT   IN   THE    WORLP.  267 

The  raging  beast  was  subdued ;  the  man  felt  himself 
in  a  wrong  position.  The  woman  and  her  landlord  stood 
looking  at  each  other  for  some  moments  in  silence. 

"  You  have  a  stove,  I  see,"  said  Jackman,  breaking 
through  the  strange  embarrassment  which  had  fallen  on 
him  so  suddenly. 

"  Yes,  sir,  thanks  to  the  interest  made  for  me  by  your 
kind-hearted  wife."  The  tender  sweetness  of  Madeline's 
voice  penetrated  his  ears  like  music.  The  wild  beast  in 
his  nature  slunk  still  farther  away  and  out  of  sight. 

Jackman  was  dumb.  He  gazed  in  a  bewildered,  half 
fascinated  way,  at  Madeline ;  then  around  the  stripped, 
comfortless  room ;  then  out  of  the  window ;  and  then,  like 
a  baffled  and  rebuked  dog,  turned  and  retreated.  It  was 
the  first  time  he  had  gone  into  his  tenant's  room ;  and  he 
felt  sure  it  would  be  his  last  adventure  in  that  direction. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


HE  sudden  appearance  of  Jackman  had 
frightened  Madeline.  On  his  with 
drawal,  she  sunk  back  into  the  chair 
from  which  she  had  arisen,  feeling 
weak,  and  trembling  inwardjy.  She 
knew  him  to  be  a  violent  man,  and 
there  had  always  rested  on  her  mind  a 
dread  of  encountering  him.  She  at 
tempted  to  resume  her  sewing,  but  her 
hand  trembled  so  that  she  could  not 
guide  the  needle.  The  air  of  the  room 
felt  close  and  stifling  —  her  face  was  hot,  as  if  she  were, 
before  a  fire.  She  panted  for  breath.  Seeking  for  relief 
she  opened  a  window,  and  let  the  cold  air  fall  over  her. 
There  came  a  sensation  of  ease,  followed  too  soon  by  a 
shuddering  chill  that  seized  her  without  warning. 

There  was  not  now  heat  enough  in  the  little  stove,  red 
in  some  parts,  to  remove  the  inward  cold  that  made  her 
vitals  shiver.  She  gathered  her  shawl  about  her,  but  it 
gave  no  impression  of  warmth.  Her  head  was  confused  — 


OUT   IK   THE    WORLD.  269 

her  limbs  heavy  —  weakness  oppressed  her.  So,  she 
crept  into  her  poor  bed  on  the  floor,  drawing  the  thick 
comfortable  over  her. 

"  Why,  bless  me !  Are  you  sick  ? "  Mrs.  Jackman 
came  in  nearly  an  hour  afterwards,  and  found  Mrs.  Spen 
cer  in  bed. 

Madeline  roused  herself  from  a  dull  stupor,  and  looked 
up  without  replying. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  Are  you  sick  ?  "  Mrs.  Jackman 
repeated  her  question,  bending  over  Mrs.  Spencer  as  she 
spoke. 

"  I'm  afraid  so,"  was  murmured. 

"  How  do  you  feel !  Where  are  you  sick  ?  "  Mrs.  Jack 
man  was  earnest,  but  very  kind. 

"  I'm  so  tight  here."  Madeline  laid  her  hand  on  her 
chest,  and  tried  to  take  a  long  breath.  Then  she  closed  her 
eyes  in  a  listless  way. 

Mrs.  Jackman  raised  herself  up,  and  stood  thinking  for 
some  moments ;  then  left  the  room  and  went  down  stairs, 
where  she  met  her  husband. 

"  Look  here,  John,"  she  spoke  with  a  will  in  her  tones 
not  to  be  mistaken,  "  I've  got  something  to  say  to  you." 

"  Say  on,"  growled  the  beast  in  Jackman,  not  yet  fully 
restored  to  brutal  confidence. 

"  There's  a  sick  woman  up  stairs !  What  did  you  do 
or  say  to  her." 

"  I  said  nothing,  and  did  nothing,  that  could  harm  a  fly," 
he  answered,  putting  himself  on  the  defensive,  just  where 
his  wife  wished  to  get  him. 

"  You  frightened  the  poor  thing  by  storming  into  her 
room  as  you  did.  I  was  afraid  of  it  when  you  went  up. 
You  didn't  consider  how  weak  she  was,  poor  creature ! " 


270  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"  I  didn't  storm  into  her  room,"  returned  Jackman,  not 
yet  entirely  recovered  from  the  sense  of  shame  that  over 
whelmed  him  so  suddenly  when  he  found  himself  in  the 
presence  of  Mrs.  Spencer.  "  I  didn't  speak  an  unkind 
word." 

"  I'm  glad  you  didn't,  John,"  answered  Mrs.  Jackman, 
mollifying  a  little.  "  You'd  never  have  forgiven  yourself. 
And  now,  John,"  she  continued,  "  there's  only  just  one 
thing  for  us  to  do,  and  that  is  to  put  her  room  in  a  little 
decent  order.  She'll  have  to  have  a  doctor,  and  I'll  not 
stand  the  disgrace  of  having  one  come  into  my  house  to 
visit  a  woman  like  that,  lying  on  the  floor  in  a  room 
without  furniture.  There's  a  bedstead  in  the  garret,  and 
I'm  going  to  have  it  put  up  for  her.  I'm  going  to  have 
a  bureau  moved  in  there,  and  some  pieces  of  carpet  spread 
down.  She  shall  be  made  comfortable  —  she  shall !  Poor 
soul !  It  wont  hurt  us  any." 

Jackman's  selfish  spirit  winced  at  this  proposal,  but,  as 
the  case  stood,  he  had  not  the  courage  to  demur.  His 
wife  was  one  of  those  prompt,  in  earnest  persons,  who 
never  stop  long  between  purpose  and  act.  She  saw  that 
she  could  have  hei  own  way  for  the  time,  and  did  not 
pause  for  a  change  of  feeling  in  her  husband.  Retui'ning 
to  Madeline's  room,  she  said,  kindly  and  cheerfully  — 

"  Come,  Mrs.  Spencer ;  I  want  you  to  go  into  the  next 
chamber  for  a  little  while.  It's  pleasanter,  and  maybe 
you'll  feel  better.  Come  ! " 

She  stooped  to  the  floor  where  Madeline  was  lying,  and 
assisted  her  to  rise  from  her  pallet  of  straw,  hard  almost 
as  the  floor  itself.  The  sick  woman  made  no  resistance, 
but  suffered  herself  to  be  taken  into  an  adjoining  chamber 
and  placed  in  a  more  comfortable  bed.  Her  skin  was  hot 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  271 

with  fever,  and  her  breath  quick  and  obstructed.  She 
complained  of  a  dull  aching  all  through  her  chest. 

Jackman  growled  to  himself  in  an  undertone,  as  he 
brought  down  the  unused  bedstead  from  the  garret  and  put 
it  up  as  directed  by  his  wife  in  Mrs.  Spencer's  room ;  but 
did  not  rise  into  any  overt  opposition  to  the  new  con 
dition  of  things  about  being  inaugurated.  The  whole 
spirit  of  his  life  had  been  —  "  take,  take"  —  never  —  "  give, 
give."  He  had  been  eager  to  gather  from  all  sources,  to 
harvest  in  all  fields  whether  his  own  or  his  neighbor's  J 
but  not  to  distribute  for  the  good  of  another.  But  now, 
he  felt  strangely  impelled  in  another  direction.  Now  he 
was  conscious  of  something  like  an  inward  pleasure  in 
providing  for  the  comfort  of  one  whom,  but  a  little  while 
before,  he  would  have  cast  into  the  street  without  a  throb 
of  compunction.  He  made  no  objection  to  helping  in 
with  a  small  bureau,  and  actually  proposed  the  removal  to 
Mrs.  Spencer's  room  of  a  light  dressing-table  and  glass. 

When  Madeline  was  taken  back,  she  hardly  knew  her 
chamber.  The  transformation,  so  quickly  made,  touched 
her  deeply.  As  Mrs.  Jackman  assisted  her  into  the  com 
fortable  bed  she  had  provided,  Madeline's  feelings  gave  way, 
and  in  tearful  thanks  she  laid  her  head  on  her  breast,  sob 
bing —  "May  the  Lord,  who  put  this  kindness  into  your 
heart,  bless  you  a  thousand  fold ! " 

Anew  emotion  thrilled  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Jackman  as 
this  benediction  fell  upon  her  ears.  She  seemed  to  be 
lifted  above  the  common  influences  of  her  life,  and  to  be  in 
association  with  something  higher  and  purer. 

"Say  to  your  husband,"  Mrs.  Spencer  added,  as  she 
sank  back  with  her  head  among  the  soft  pillows,  "  that 
God  will  not  let  his  good  act  go  unrewarded.  He  is  very 


272  OUT   IK   THE   WORLD. 

near  to  us.  He  sees  all  our  actions  ;  he  knows  all  our 
thoughts ;  he  keeps  for  each  one  of  us  a  book  of  remem 
brance." 

She  closed  her  eyes  and  was  silent. 

"  Don't  let  anything  trouble  you,"  said  Mrs.  Jackman. 
"  You're  sick  and  can't  help  yourself.  It  shall  all  be  right." 

Mrs.  Spencer  opened  her  large  eyes  and  fixed  them  on 
Mrs.  Jackman.  How  full  of  grateful  thanks  they  were  I 
A  soft  smile  gathered  around  her  lips.  A  radiance  from 
within  lighted  her  countenance.  Half  entranced,  and 
half  in  awe,  Mrs.  Jackman  looked  upon  her,  and  felt  that 
a  beauty  not  of  this  earth  was  flooding  her  spirit. 

"If  you  could  have  seen  her  face,  John,"  she  said  to 
her  husband,  afterwards.  "  I've  seen  pictures  of  angels ; 
but  I  never  saw  a  face  like  here.  I've  had  a  different 
feeling  ever  since.  Wont  you  just  go  up  and  see  her? 
She's  afraid  of  you.  Just  go  up  and  say  a  kind  word, 
and  so  put  her  heart  at  ease." 

But  Jackman  growled  an  emphatic  "  No  !  " 

"  Now  do,  John  !  "  urged  his  wife.  "  I  want  you  to  see 
how  nice  and  comfortable  she  is.  You'll  both  feel  better 
for  it." 

"  If  she's  comfortable,  I'm  satisfied.  You've  had  your 
own  way  about  her,  and  I  hope  you're  content.  What 
are  you  bothering  me  for  ?  I  don't  care  for  the  woman. " 

But  he  did  care  for  all  that,  as  his  wife  saw  plainly 
enough.  Something  had  touched  his  feelings,  and  changed 
his  sentiments  in  regard  to  her.  He  was  puzzled  at  his 
own  state. 

"  She  ought  to  have  a  doctor,"  said  Mrs.  Jackman.  "  I 
don't  like  that  fever  and  tightness  of  the  breast,  coming 
on  so  suddenly.  She  coughed  when  I  was  in  her  room 
just  now." 


OUT   IK   THE   WORLD.  273 

"I'll  go  for  a  Dispensary  doctor,"  replied  Jackman. 

"  She  ought  to  have  a  good  doctor.  She's  a  very  sick 
woman." 

"  Who's  to  pay  a  doctor  ?  She's  got  nothing."  Jack 
man  frowned.  He  understood  his  wife. 

"See  here,  John" — Mrs.  Jackman  came  close  to  her 
husband,  speaking  in  a  serious,  coaxing  way  — "  We 
haven't  a  chick  or  a  child  —  no  one  to  take  care  of  but 
ourselves  —  while  most  of  our  neighbors  have  houses  full 
to  provide  for.  We're  getting  along,  while  dozens  that  I 
could  name  are  standing  still  or  going  behind  hand.  Now 
it  wont  hurt  us  to  do  a  little  for  somebody  else  once  in 
our  lifetimes.  Let  us  think  she's  our  child,  and  do  for  her, 
now  that  she  is  sick,  just  as  if  she  were  our  own." 

"If  you  arn't  losing  your  senses,  Kitty,  then  I  wonder! 
What  on  earth  is  coming  over  you,"  exclaimed  Jackman, 
trying  to  look  the  anger  he  could  not  feel. 

"Just  as  you  please,  John,"  answered  Mrs.  Jackman, 
who  did  not  think  it  prudent  to  press  her  husband  any 
farther.  "  Get  a  doctor  for  her ;  —  I  leave  that  to  you." 

Jackman  started  out,  and  took  his  way  to  the  nearest  Dis 
pensary.  But  his  wife's  suggestions  were  in  his  mind,  and 
he  could  not  push  them  aside.  At  the  door  of  the  Dis 
pensary  he  paused,  still  undetermined ;  then  kept  on  with 
out  entering.  Not  having  had  occasion  to  call  in  a  doc 
tor  for  some  years,  Jackman  had  no  family  physcian ;  so 
he  was  at  a  loss  where  to  go.  He  walked  on  slowly,  and 
with  an  irresolute  manner;  stopping  now  and  then,  as 
the  old  purpose  to  call  in  a  Dispensary  doctor  returned. 
But,  he  did  not  retrace  his  steps.  He  never  had  been  so 
undecided  in  his  life.  It  was  a  new  thing  for  a  struggle 
12* 


274  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

to  go  on  in  his  mind  between  a  selfish  and  a  generous 
feeling. 

In  one  of  these  pauses,  a  carriage  drew  up  at  the  side 
walk  where  he  stood,  and  a  man  past  the  prime  of  life, 
with  a  grave  but  mild  countenance,  alighted,  and  crossing 
from  the  curbstone,  went  into  a  basement  office.  In  the 
window  of  the  office  was  a  si<m  bearing  the  name  of  Doc- 

o  o 

tor  Wheatland.  Jackman  correctly  inferred,  that  the 
person  who  had  alighted  from  the  carnage  was  Doctor 
Wheatland  himself.  Something  in  his  face  attracted  him, 
and  so,  without  taking  time  to  consider  and  hesitate,  lie 
went  in  and  asked  if  he  would  call  and  see  Mrs.  Spencer. 

"She's  veiy  poor,"  he  added,  as  a  saving  clause  for 
himself,  "but,  maybe,  if  it  isn't  too  much,  it  can  be  paid." 

"What  did  you  say  her  name  was?"  asked  Doctor 
Wheatland,  showing  more  interest  in  the  case  than  Jack- 
man  had  expected. 

"  Mrs.  Spencer,"  was  replied. 

"  Who  is  she  ?  "  inquired  the  doctor. 

Jackman  shook  his  head.  "  Don't  know  anything  about 
her,  sir.  She  took  a  room  at  my  house  six  or  seven  months 
ago." 

"  How  old  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  isn't  young,  sir.  Maybe  about  forty ;  and  maybe 
older." 

The  doctor  mused  for  a  little  while. 

"What  has  she  been  doing  at  your  house?"  He  put 
the  question  with  evident  interest. 

"  She  took  in  sewing." 

"  Does  any  one  come  to  see  her  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.     She  don't  seem  to  have  any  friends." 

"  Spencer  is  the  name  ?  " 


OUT  rsr  THE  WOBLD.  275 

"  Yes,  sir.    Mrs.  Spencer." 

"  What  kind  of  a  woman  is  she  ?  " 

"  I've  not  seen  much  of  her,"  replied  Jackman.  "  But, 
I  guess,  she's  a  nice  kind  of  a  woman.  My  wife  think? 
so." 

"  I'll  call  and  see  her."  And  the  doctor  wrote  down 
the  address  in  his  memorandum  book. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


ERE'S  the  doctor." 

Mrs.  Jackman  had  entered  Mrs.  Spen 
cer's  room,  followed  by  Doctor  Wheat- 
land.  The  instant  the  physician  looked 
into  Madeline's  face,  he  took  hold  of 
Mrs.  Jackman's  arm,  and  drawing  her 
back  from  the  bed,  whispered  — 

"  I  would  like  to  see  her  alone  for  a 
few  minutes,  if  you  please." 

Mrs.  Jackman  withdrew.  The  Doctor 
then  sat  down  by  the  bedside.  Madeline  glanced  into 
his  face,  and  recognizing  him,  started  up  in  bed,  looking 
at  him,  from  her  large,  fever  glistening  eyes,  in  a  kind  of 
blank  bewilderment. 

"  My  poor  Madeline ! "  said  the  doctor,  with  an  emotion 
he  could  not  repress.  "  My  poor  Madeline ! "  he  repeated, 
pressing  her  back  upon  the  pillow  from  which  she  had 
arisen,  and  laying  his  hand  softly  on  her  temples,  smooth 
ing  back  the  hair  caressingly,  tenderly,  as  if  she  had  been 
his  own  child. 


OUT   IN    THE   WORLD.  277 

"  Oh,  doctor !  doctor ! "  sobbed  Madeline,  surprise  and 
hope  in  her  voice.  Then  feeling  overcame  her  and  she 
wept  passionately. 

"  My  poor  child !  "  murmured  the  doctor,  his  hand  still 
resting  on  her  head.  "It  must  have  gone  hard  with  you 
since  our  last  meeting !  But  you  are  sick.  The  physician 
first ;  the  friend  afterwards.  How  do  you  feel  ?  What 
ails  you  ?  " 

As  soon  as  Madeline  could  get  voice  to  speak,  she  ex 
plained  how  a  sudden  chill  had  seized  her  as  she  sat,  over 
heated,  by  the  window,  followed  by  fever,  tightness  and 
pain  in  the  chest.  A  cough  interrupted  her  speech.  It 
was  dry  and  wheezing.  The  attack  had  been  sudden,  and 
she  had  grown  worse  rapidly.  The  doctor's  countenance 
grew  serious.  He  bent  his  ear  down  close  against  her 
chest,  to  get  the  sound  of  her  respiration.  He  held  her 
pulse,  counting  the  beats.  Examined  her  tongue ;  and 
then  sat  pondering  the  case,  searching  in  the  storehouse 
of  thought  for  the  remedy  best  suited  to  her  case.  After 
it  was  chosen  and  administered,  he  sat  and  watched  for 
the  effect,  which  was  soon  apparent  in  the  lessening  heat 
of  her  skin,  and  lighter  breathing.  The  cough,  which  had 
begun  to  be  troublesome,  returned  at  more  distant  inter 
vals,  and  with  lessening  force. 

"  You  feel  better  ?  "  whispered  the  doctor. 

"Yes." 

"  Can  breathe  more  freely  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  How  is  the  pain  in  your  chest  ?  " 

"  I  scarcely  feel  it  now." 

"  The  attack  was  sudden  ;  but  we  shall  soon  have  the 
disease  under  control." 


278  OUT  IN   THE   •WORLD. 

Madeline  lay  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  doctor ;  never 
moving  them  for  an  instant. 

"  It  seems,"  she  whispered,  "  as  if  God  had  sent  you 
here." 

"  He  is  in  all  our  ways,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"  Yes  —  yes,"  she  murmured.  "  But  His  ways  are  not 
as  our  ways."  Her  eyes  shut  quickly,  and  there  was  a 
spasm  of  emotion  in  her  face.  "  Nor,"  she  added,  recov. 
ering  herself,  "  our  ways  as  His  ways.  But  all  will  come 
out  right  in  the  end.  I  have  kept  my  faith  in  that,  doc 
tor." 

"  And  your  heart  pure." 

«  My  life  pure,"  she  answered.  "  At  least,  I  have  tried 
to  keep  it  so.  The  pure  heart  is  from  God." 

"Yes  —  yes.  God  only  can  change  the  perverse  will- 
The  external  life  is  ours,  and  we  may  do  good  or  evil 
But,  over  desire  —  over  feeling  —  we  have  no  inward 
power.  God  changes  all  this  in  the  degree  that  we  act 
from  right  principles.  We  must  do  right  if  we  would  be 
right." 

Madeline's  eyes  closed  heavily  as  the  doctor  ceased 
speaking.  He  saw  this  and  remained  silent.  In  a  little 
while,  she  was  in  a  gentle  sleep.  Rising,  noiselessly,  he 
went  to  the  door,  and  opening  it  stepped  out.  Mrs.  Jack- 
man,  who  was  in  an  adjoining  chamber,  met  him  in  the 
passage  and  asked  about  Mrs.  Spencer. 

"  She  is  more  comfortable,"  replied  the  doctor,  in  a 
whisper,  "  and  has  fallen  asleep." 

"  Is  she  a  very  sick  woman,  doctor  ? 

"  She  is  ill,  ma'am,  and  will  require  careful  attention." 

"  Oh,  she  shall  have  that ! "  replied  Mrs.  Jackman,  show 
ing  much  interest.  "  I'll  nurse  her  as  well  as  if  she  were 
one  of  my  own  flesh  and  blood." 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"You  know  her  to  be  a  right  kind  of  a  woman  ? 

There  came  a  flash  of  resentment  into  the  eyes  of  Mrs. 
Jackman. 

"  Right  kind  of  a  woman !  You'll  not  find  many  as 
good,  if  you  travel  the  world  over." 

"  Just  my  own  impression,  which  I  am  glad  to  hear  you 
confirm,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  And  now,  I  want  you  to 
be  careful  in  giving  her  the  medicine  I  shall  leave.  Here 
are  two  powders.  Dissolve  them  in  about  a  wineglass  of 
water  each,  and  give  a  spoonful,  alternately,  eveiy  half 
hour." 

"  That  is,  first  from  one  glass,  and  then  from  the  other, 
half  an  hour  apart,"  said  Mrs.  Jackman. 

"  Precisely.  You  understand  the  direction.  Use  two 
clean  tumblers  in  which  to  dissolve  the  powders,  and  let 
there  be  two  silver  spoons,  one  for  each  medicine." 

"It  shall  be  just  so,  doctor.    I'll  see  to  it  myself." 

"  She  is  sleeping  now.  When  she  wakes,  say  to  her 
that  I  will  call  in  again  during  the  afternoon." 

The  doctor  then  retired,  and  Mrs.  Jackman  got  the  two 
tumblers  and  dissolved  the  powders.  Mrs.  Spencer  was 
still  asleep  when  she  went  back  to  her  room.  She  moved 
about  noiselessly,  and  then  sat  down  near  the  bed  to  watch 
her  patient ;  half  wondering  with  herself  at  the  interest 
she  was  feeling  in  one  whose  presence  in  the  house  had 
been  for  months  a  trouble  and  a  concern. 

Madeline  slept  for  nearly  half  an  hour.  When  she 
awoke,  she  started  up  and  looked  eagerly  about  the  room ; 
then  turned  to  Mrs.  Jackman,  saying,  in  a  disappointed 
voice  — 

"  Oh,  it  was  so  real ! " 

"What?" 


OUT   IN   THE    WORLD. 

"The  dream  I  had  just  now."  She  paused,  and  looked 
intently  at  Mrs.  Jackman  —  then  let  her  eyes  move  about 
the  room. 

"  Has  any  one  been  here  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Yes." 

"  Who."     She  became  agitated. 

«  The  doctor." 

"  Doctor  Wheatland  ?  "     Eagerly. 

"  I  didn't  know  his  name.    He  was  an  elderly  man." 

«  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  Gone.  He  left  you  some  medicine.  There  it  is  on 
the  mantel-piece.  You  must  take  a  spoonful  now,  and 
another  in  half  an  hom\"  And  Mrs.  Jackman  crossed  the 
room  for  one  of  the  glasses  in  which  the  powders  had 
been  dissolved. 

"  Did  he  say  he'd  come  back  again  ?  " 

"  O  yes.     He's  coming  back  again  this  afternoon." 

Madeline's  heart  beat  violently ;  she  was  in  a  tremor  of 
excitement. 

"Do  you  know  the  doctor?"  asked  Mrs.  Jackman, 
whose  curiosity  was  aroused. 

"  I've  seen  him  before." 

"What  is  his  name?" 

"  Doctor  Wheatland.  I  knew  him  many  years  ago, 
when  I  was  only  a  girl." 

"  He's  one  of  the  great  doctors  of  the  city,"  said  Mrs. 
Jackman. 

"  He's  always  stood  high  as  a  physician.  And  then,'' 
she  added,  after  a  pause,  "  he's  such  a  good  man." 

Meantime,  Doctor  Wheatland  was  making  his  round  of 
afternoon  visits.  In  passing  through  Fourteenth  street, 
he  bowed  to  a  lady  who  happened  to  be  at  the  window. 


OUT   IK   THE    WORLD.  281 

After  going  half  a  block  farther,  he  ordered  his  driver  to 
turn  and  set  him  down  at  the  house  where  he  had  recog 
nized  the  lady. 

*'  This  is  not  a  professional  call,  Mrs.  Lawrence,"  said 
Doctor  Wheatland,  smiling,  as  he  met  the  lady  injier 
parlor. 

"  Which  makes  your  visit  none  the  less  welcome,^  she 
replied,  her  countenance  full  of  pleasure. 

"  I've  had  what  might  almost  be  called  an  adventure 
to-day,"  said  the  doctor,  looking  more  serious. 

"Ah?    What  was  it?" 

"  I  met  an  old,  old  friend  of  yours  and  mine." 

"Who?" 

"You  remember  Madeline  Spencer — Mrs.  Jansen,  after 
wards  ?  " 

"  Oh,  doctor! "  Mrs.  Lawrence  became  excited.  «*  What 
of  her?  Where  is  she?" 

"  She  is  sick  —  very  poor,  and  friendless." 

"  Friendless  and  poor  no  longer ! "  replied  Mrs.  Law 
rence,  with  increasing  excitement. 

"  Your  old  regard  for  her  has  not  died,"  said  Doctor 
Wheatland.  "  I'm  glad  it  came  into  my  thought  to  see 
you." 

"  It  is  in  Providence  that  you  called,"  answered  Mrs- 
Lawrence.  "For  months  I  have  been  in  search  of  her* 
and  was  beginning  to  fear  that  she  was  dead." 

"  She  is  not  very  long  for  this  world  ;  but,  if  I  read  her 
face  aright,  she  is  growing  purer  for  the  next,"  said  Doc 
tor  Wheatland.  He  then  related  what  the  reader  already 
knows  of  his  meeting  with  Madeline,  adding : — 

"  I  think  this  attack  of  pneumonia  under  control.  For 
tunately,  I  was  called  early.  I  shall  see  her  again  before 
night." 


282  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

"  Do  you  think,  doctor,"  asked  Mrs.  Lawrence,  "  that  it 
would  be  safe  to  remove  her  at  once  ?  " 

"  Remove  her  where  ?  " 

"To  my  house." 

Doctor  Wheatland  bent  his  brows  thoughtfully. 

"  Are  you  in  earnest  ?  "  he  asked.  His  surprise  was  not 
concealed. 

"  Altogether  so,  doctor.  If  it  will  be  safe  to  remove 
her,  I  will  order  a  carriage,  and  go  for  her  without  a  mo 
ment's  delay." 

The  doctor  considered  again. 

"  The  day  is  cold,"  he  said.  "  If  she  were  to  be  chilled 
again  !  And  then,  I  am  not  sure  as  to  the  condition  of 
her  lungs.  The  frosty  air  might  be  too  stimulating." 

"  How  far  away  is  she  ?  " 

"  A  dozen  blocks  —  not  more." 

"  Don't  you  think  it  might  be  ventured,  doctor  ?  Say 
yes.  I'm  sure  all  ill  effects  will  be  more  than  compensat 
ed  by  the  higher  care  and  comfort  of  my  house.  I  will 
nurse  her  as  tenderly  as  if  she  were  my  own  sister." 

"  She  would  be  better  here  —  a  great  deal  better.  Per 
haps  it  might  be  ventured.  To-morrow,  I  have  110  doubt 
it  would  be  safe." 

"  Don't  say  to-morrow,  doctor !  To-day  —  now !  Let 
me  go  for  her  at  once." 

"  I  shall  have  to  see  her  first.     In  two  hours  I  will  visit 
her  again,"  said  Doctor  Wheatland. 
"  Not  for  two  hours  !     Oh,  doctor !  " 
"  What  then,  Mrs.  Lawrence  ?  " 

"  There  are  things  that  cannot  wait,  doctor.  I  will  or 
der  a  carriage  at  once,  and  half  fill  it  with  pillows,  if 
needed.  You  shall  go  with  me  and  if  on  seeing  Made- 


OUT   IN   THE    WORLD.  283 

line  again,  you  decide  that  it  will  not  be  riskJhg  too  much 
to  remove  her,  we  will  bring  her  away." 

Mrs.  Lawrence  prevailed.  Madeline  was  asleep  when 
she  entered  softly,  but  with  a  disturbed  heart  and  dim 
eyes,  the  small,  close  room  where  she  lay,  and  bent  down 
over  her,  only  repressing  the  sobs  that  shook  her  inward 
ly,  by  a  painful  effort.  There  was  now  no  fever-flush  on 
Madeline's  face,  which  was  white  and  thin  —  almost  ghost 
ly  —  but  very  pure,  and  still  preserving  its  finely  cut  out 
lines.  Doctor  Wheatland  stood  by  her  side. 

The  movements  in  Madeline's  room  were  not  wholly 
noiseless.  She  was  sleeping  but  lightly,  and  opened  her 
eyes  upon  the  faces  of  the  doctor  and  her  old  friend. 

"  Jessie  !  "  There  was  no  start,  but  a  deep  and  tender 
surprise  in  her  low  voice. 

u  Madeline !  Dear  Madeline  !  "  Mrs.  Lawrence  signed 
for  silence  and  quiet  with  her  finger  upon  her  lips.  Love 
could  find  no  sweeter  tones  by  which  to  reveal  herself. 

Doctor  Wheatland  took  Madeline's  hand  and  felt  of 
her  pulse. 

"  Scarcely  any  fever,"  he  said.  "  How  is  the  tightness 
in  your  chest  ?  " 

"I  don't  feel  it  now."  She  heard  the  doctor,  but  only 
saw  Mrs.  Lawrence,  from  whose  face  and  eyes  she  was 
drinking  the  very  wine  of  life. 

"  I  have  come  to  take  you  away  from  here,"  said  Mrs. 
Lawrence.  Madeline  did  not  answer.  Will  and  thought 
were  quiescent.  She  had  ceased  her  struggle  for  life. 
She  was  a  frail  leaf  floating  with  the  current.  It  might 
bear  her  whither  it  would. 

Immediate  prepai'ations  were  made  for  her  removal. 
She  offered  no  resistance  —  asked  no  questions  —  made 
only  one  remark. 


284  OUT  IN   THE   WORLD. 

"She  has  been  kind  to  me" — looking  towards  Mrs, 
Jackman,  who,  with  a  gratified,  busy  manner,  was  helping 
to  get  Madeline  ready. 

"  And  shall  not  be  forgotten,"  said  Mrs  Lawrence. 

When  all  was  prepared,  Madeline,  well  wrapped  up  left 
her  room,  leaning  on  the  doctor  and  Mrs.  Lawrence.  She 
was  weaker  than  had  been  supposed.  At  the  head  of 
the  stairway,  she  became  so  faint  that  she  had  to  sit  down 
and  some  minutes  passed  before  she  was  able  to  rise  again. 

Jackman — hard,  coarse,  and  rough,  had  kept  himself 
aloof  from  these  proceedings,  yet  still  within  the  line  of 
observation.  He  was  by  no  means  an  uninterested  party. 
Two  quite  opposite  feelings  were  at  work  in  his  mind. 
Always  looking  out  for  some  advantage  to  himself,  the 
question  as  to  what  gain  might  come  to  him  through 
these  new  friends  of  Mrs.  Spencer,  gave  to  his  dull 
blood  a  quicker  motion.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  hu 
man  in  him  had  been  stirred  from  its  almost  death-sleep. 
Something  about  Mrs.  Spencer,  since  he  had  come  near 
enough  to  feel  the  sphere  of  her  quality,  had  impressed 
him  in  a  way  never  felt  before.  He  was  softened  to  a 
true  manliness  in  her  presence. 

Madeline  had  risen,  and  was  about  attempting  again  to 
descend  the  stairs,  supported  by  Doctor  Whentland  and 
Mrs.  Lawrence,  when  Jackman  pressed  forward,  saying, 
with  all  the  pity  and  gentleness  he  could  throw  into  a 
voice  unused  to  such  intonations  — 

"  There's  no  strength  in  her,  poor  thing !  Let  me  cany 
her  down."  » 

And  taking  her  up  in  his  great  arms  as  easily  as  most  men 
would  lift  a  child,  he  bore  her  down  stairs  and  out  to 
the  carriage,  placing  her  gently  among  the  pillows  with 
which  it  was  lined. 


OUT   IN   THE    WORLD.  285 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Mr.  Jackman,"  Madeline  said,  feebly. 
"  1  wont  forget  this." 

The  man  stood  half  shame-faced.  He  had  been  be 
trayed  into  an  act  of  genuine  kindness. 

"  Nor  will  I  forget  you,  sir,"  said  Doctor  "Wheatland, 
giving  Jackman  his  hand  as  he  stood  by  the  carriage  door. 

"  You  will  find  her  at  No. Fourteenth  street. 

Come  to-morrow.  We  shall  both  want  to  see  you."  Mrs. 
Lawrence  leaned  from  the  carriage  window,  and  spoke  to 
Mrs.  Jackman,  who  promised  to  call  as  desired. 

"  It  is  better  so,  John,"  said  Mrs.  Jackman,  as  the  car 
riage  drove  away,  and  they  went  back  across  the  pave 
ment,  "  than  if  we  had  sent  her  to  the  alms-house." 

Jackman  did  not  reply.  The  remembrance  of  what  he 
had  meditated  against  Madeline  hurt  him  interiorly.  At 
the  same  time,  there  dawned  into  his  mind  a  new  convic 
tion.  He  saw,  dimly,  it  is  true,  that  there  might  come 
loss,  as  well  as  gain,  from  a  too  eager  seeking  of  our  own. 
Mrs.  Spencer  in  the  alms-house  !  The  thought  gave  him 
pain,  and  he  pushed  it  aside,  hastily. 

"  I'm  so  glad  we  were  kind  to  her,  poor  thing ! "  con 
tinued  Mrs.  Jackman,  when  they  were  back  again  in  the 
house.  "  It  wasn't  any  loss  to  us.  And  I'm  sure  I  feel  a 
great  deal  better.  It  was  just  right  in  you,  John,  to  take 
her  up  as  you  did  and  carry  her  down  stairs.  She  might 
have  fainted  before  getting  to  the  carriage.  She  wont 
forget  it.  Poor  dear  soul !  It  is  strange  how  I  feel  to 
wards  her." 

Jackman  kept  silence  while  his  wife  talked,  his  thoughts 
echoing  her  words  far  oftener  than  she  imagined. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


HE  Lawrences  had  neither  seen  Mr. 
Jansen  nor  heard  of  him  for  weeks. 
After  the  cold,  damp,  November  weath 
er  set  in,  his  calls  at  the  store  of  Mr. 
Lawrence  ceased.  It  was  understood 
between  the  two  men,  that  if  Madeline 
were  discovered,  Mr.  Jansen  was  to  be 
at  once  informed  of  the  fact. 

The  first  day  of  the  new  year  had 
arrived.  It  was  nearly  a  week  since 
Madeline  had  found  peace  and  safety  with  her  old  friend, 
since  the  weary  and  fainting  wanderer  amid  barren  wastes, 
had  rested  on  soft  green  banks  by  cooling  waters.  But, 
she  had  not  rallied,  physically,  although  but  few  symp 
toms  of  the  serious  attack  of  illness  from  which  she  was 
suffering  when  Doctor  Wheatland  found  her,  remained 
The  weak  body  had,  for  a  long  period,  been  sustained  by 
the  mind.  The  very  necessity  for  effort,  had  kept  her 
from  fainting  and  falling  by  the  way.  Now  that  struggle 
had  ceased,  there  was  no  return  of  vital  power  to  the 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  287 

body's  over-taxed  forces.  She  lay  very  quiet,  sometimes 
almost  lethargic.  She  talked  but  little.  Her  mind,  ap 
parently  not  very  active,  seemed  dwelling,  half  dreamily, 
half  consciously,  amid  memories  or  hopes  that  were  too 
dimly  revealed  to  awaken  in  her  heart  a  quicker  pulsation. 

Mrs.  Lawrence  did  not  seek  to  disturb  this  condition  of 
mind  ;  but  ministered  to  her  state  with  a  care  and  tender 
ness  born  of  purest  affection.  Doctor  Wheatland  saw 
her"  every  day,  lingering  in  her  room,  and  watching  over 
her  with  a  far  more  than  professional  concern.  After  years 
of  wandering  amid  desert  vales  and  barren  mountains,  the 
days  of  suffering  and  loneliness  were  over.  No  more 
bruised  and  bleeding  feet  —  torn  flesh  —  terror  of  wild 
beasts  —  shiverings  in  the  storm.  Peace,  safety,  love! — 
these  instead.  Whether  sleeping  or  waking —  in  the 
body,  or  out  of  the  body,  Madeline  scarcely  knew.  Oh, 
the  sweetness,  the  calmness,  the  serenity  of  that  rest,  after 
years  of  lonely  struggle  and  pain,  whose  climax  of  despair 
had  been  almost  reached  ! 

"  I  will  call  at  Mr.  Jan  sen's."  It  was  New  Years  day. 
Mr.  Lawrence  looked  in  at  the  room  whei-e  his  wife  was 
sitting. 

"  You'll  see  Mr.  Jansen  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  am  going  for  that  purpose  alone,  not  to  call 
on  the  ladies."  And  he  went  out 

At  Mr.  Jansen's  he  found  the  New  Year's  table  spread 
with  cold  turkey,  oysters,  tongue,  biscuit,  brandy,  wine, 
cake,  fruit,  etc.,  in  liberal  abundance,  and  Mrs.  Jansen  and 
her  two  oldest  daughters,  pranked  out  in  jewels  and  finery 
to  receive  company.  He  thoiight  it  best  to  assume  the 
attitude  of  a  New  Year's  day  caller,  and  so  made  his  com 
pliments  to  the  ladies,  sipped  from  a  glass  of  wine,  and 


288  OUT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

took  a  mouthful  or  two  of  cake.  Then  he  asked  about 
the  health  of  Mr.  Jansen. 

"  He's  miserable,"  was  answered,  with  assumed  concern, 
Mr.  Lawrence  saw  that  it  was  assumed. 

u  Does  he  ride  out  this  weather  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Oh,  no  indeed,"  replied  the  wife.  "  He  hasn't  been 
down  stairs  for  a  week." 

The  bell  rung.  Fresh  callers  were  at  the  door.  It  was 
Mr.  Lawrence's  opportunity. 

"  Can  I  see  him  ?  "  he  said. 

The  countenance  of  Mrs.  Jansen  changed.  She  had 
not  expected  this.  What  did  he  want  with  her  husband  ? 
She  had  an  instinct  of  danger ;  or,  not  to  use  so  strong  a 
sentence,  a  suspicion  that  something  was  to  be  communi 
cated  not  intended  for  her  ears.  She  thought  to  a  conclu 
sion  rapidly,  and  answered,  with  a  bland  smile  — 

"  Oh  yes,  certainly,"  and  she  spoke  to  a  servant  who 
was  in  the  room,  who  went  up  stairs,  and  immediately  re 
turned  with  word  from  Mr.  Jansen,  that  Mr.  Lawrence 
should  come  to  his  room.  In  the  meantime,  fresh  callers 
had  arrived,  to  the  number  of  four  or  five,  and  they  hap 
pened  to  be  personages  from  whom  Mrs.  Jansen  could  not 
possibly  excuse  herself,  and  leave  them  to  be  entertained 
by  her  daughters.  In  the  flutter  of  their  reception,  Mr. 
Lawrence,  signed  to  by  the  servant,  left  the  parlors  and 
went  to  the  room  of  Mr.  Jansen. 

It  was  a  comfortless,  neglected  room,  yet  with  every 
means  of  comfort  in  profusion.  The  hand  of  a  loving^ 
thoughtful  wife,  was  nowhere  visible.  It  was  eleven 
o'clock,  and  yet  the  chamber  had  not  been  set  in  order. 
Mr.  Jansen  was  sitting  in  a  large  easy  chair,  near  a  table 
on  which  books  and  papers  were  lying  about  in  disorder. 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD,  289 

Ashes  and  cinders  covered  the  grate  hearth ;  the  window 
curtains  wei'e  drawn  awry ;  dust  bedimmed  everything ; 
the  floor  was  littered  in  many  places ;  the  air  was  close 
and  impure  for  lack  of  ventilation. 

Mr.  Jansen  had  changed  considerably.  His  face  was 
whiter,  his  eyes  sunk  farther  back  in  their  orbits.  It  was 
plain  that  he  had  been  wasting  rapidly.  A  light  broke 
over  his  face  as  Mr.  Lawrence  came  in. 

"  Have  you  heard  of  her  ?  "  It  was  his  first  question, 
asked  eagerly,  as  he  took  his  visitor's  hand. 

«  Yes." 

A  tremor  thrilled  the  hand  that  still  clasped  that  of 
Mr.  Lawrence. 

"  What  of  her?  "  There  was  a  look  of  painful  suspense 
in  the  countenance  of  Mr.  Jansen. 

"  She  is  at  my  house." 

"Oh!  Thank  God!"  He  had  been  leaning  eagerly 
forward ;  now  he  sunk  back  in  his  chair,  shutting  his  eyes. 
The  whole  expression  of  his  face  had  changed.  Pain  was 
gone,  and  in  its  stead  relief  blended  with  satisfaction. 

"  At  your  house  ?  "  he  opened  his  eyes,  and  looked  grate 
fully  at  Mr.  Lawrence. 

"  Yes,  where  she  will  remain." 

"  How  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  was  sick  when  we  found  her ;  but  is  recovering." 

'•  Where  did  you  find  her  ?  " 

"  She  was  taken  suddenly  ill,  and  the  people  with  whom 
she  lodged  called  in  a  physician,  who  happened  to  be  Doc 
tor  Wheatlancl,  by  whom  she  was  recognized.  He  told 
Mrs.  Lawrence,  who  had  her  removed  at  once  to  our 
house." 

"  God's  good  providence,"  said  Mr.  Jansen.  "  Oh,  how 
12 


290  OUT   IN    THE   WOULD. 

thankful  I  am !  And  now,  what  of  her  ?  How  docs  she 
come  up  out  of  her  fiery  trial  ?  " 

"Pure." 

Jansen  shut  his  eyes  very  tightly.  The  lashes  quivered 
on  his  pale  cheeks.  When  he  opened  them,  the  lashes 
Avere  wet,  but  the  eyes  had  a  new  light  in  them. 

"  Pure."  He  echoed  the  word,  with  a  deep  satisfaction 
in  his  voice. 

"  Meet  for  heaven  ;  so  my  wife  says,  and  she  has  looked 
down  into  her  heart." 

"  Pure  and  meet  for  heaven."  Jansen  spoke  to  himself 
in  an  undertone,  feebly,  again  shutting  his  eyes ;  but  start 
ed  in  a  moment  afterwards,  with  shadows  of  disappoint 
ment  on  his  brow,  as  the  door  swung  open,  and  his  Avife, 
radiant  in  satin,  gold  and  diamonds,  burst  in  upon  them 
as  if  they  were  conspirators.  Suspicion  Avas  plainly  mark 
ed  on  her  face.  She  eyed  the  two  men  sharply,  but  dis 
covered  nothing.  A  neAV  feeling  quickly  dominated. 
Mortification  at  the  shameful  condition  of  her  husband's 
room,  into  Avhich  she  had  not  before  entered  on  this  par 
ticular  morning.  That  it  Avould  be  described  to  Mrs. 
LaAvrence,  she  did  not  doubt.  The  best  she  could  do,  Avas 
to  break  out  in  a  coarse  tirade  against  the  neglectful  ser 
vant,  and  to  lay  blame  upon  the  head  of  her  husband  for 
permitting  things  to  remain  in  that  state. 

Mr.  Jansen  made  no  reply ;  but  his  A'isitor  saw  disgust 
and  repulsion  on  his  face.  It  was  plain  to  Mr.  Lawrence, 
that  Mrs.  Janseu  would  not  leave  them  alone,  and  so  ris 
ing,  he  said  — 

"  I  hope  to  see  yon  better  Avhen  I  call  again,"  and  boAV- 
ing  to  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jansen,  withdrew.  There  passed 
betAvecn  the  tAvo  men  a  look  of  intelligence  Avhich  the 
hawk-eyes  of  Mrs.  Jansen  did  not  fail  to  detect. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


OR  a  week  or  two  Madeline  continued  in 
this  half  slumberous  condition,  tranquil 
and  peaceful,  as  one  who  lingers  in  the 
morning  hours  between  sleeping  and  wak 
ing.  It  was  a  question  in  the  minds  of 
her  friends  whether  life  would  calmly  re 
cede,  or  the  vital  forces  take  up  again 
their  partly  abandoned  work. 

Very  slowly  life  appeared  to  gain  on 
death.  Thought  was  unveiled  —  her  men 
tal  vision  grew  clearer.  She  looked  into 
the  face  of  her  new  condition,  understood  it,  and  became 
troubled.  To  this  state  of  mind,  which  Mrs.  Lawrence 
had  seen  must  come  in  the  natural  evolution  of  things,  it 
was  a  delicate  and  doubtful  task  to  minister. 

One  day,  after  Madeline  had  so  far  regained  strength  as 
to  be  able  to  sit  up,  Mrs.  Lawrence  found  her  in  tears. 
She  had  noted,  for  some  time,  the  gradual  stealing  of  a 
shadow  over  her  face. 

"  I  can't  have  this ! "  she  said,  cheerily,  bending  over 
Madeline  and  kissing  her. 


292  OUT   IN    TUB    WOULD. 

But,  Madeline's  tears  only  gushed  afresh.  Mrs.  Law 
rence  sat  down,  and  drawing  her  head  against  her  bosom, 
held  it  there  until  a  calmer  state  of  mind  was  gained. 

"  What  troubles  you,  dear  ?  "  she  then  asked. 

Madeline  sighed  heavily,  but  remained  silent. 

"Let  me  give  you  a  lesson"  —  Mrs.  Lawrence  looked 
tenderly  at  her  friend.  "  It  is  two  thousand  years  old  but 
as  clearly  applicable  to  your  case,  as  if  just  spoken.  '  Take 
no  thought  for  the  morrow.  Let  the  the  morrow  take 
thought  for  the  things  of  itself.  Sufficient  unto  the  day 
is  the  evil  thereof.'  You  were  thinking  of  to-morrow." 

"And  why  not?" 

"  To-day  only  is  yours.  Take  the  good  of  to-day ;  and 
do  not  spoil  its  sweetness  with  the  imagined  evils  of  to 
morrow.  Is  not  all  right  with  you  to-day  ?  Is  there  any 
good  thing  wanting  that  I  can  supply  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  friend !  You  burden  me  with  good  things. 
You  fill  my  cup  until  it  runs  over.  You  have  already 
made  me  a  debtor  even  to  bankniptcy." 

"  Love  keeps  no  account  books.  She  stands  creditor  to 
none.  I  have  already  received  more  than  I  have  given. 
My  heart  has  been  full  to  overflowing  with  delight  ever 
since  you  have  been  here.  Do  not  mar  this  pleasure  — 
do  not  hinder  the  work  of  love." 

"  But  your  husband,  Jessie  ?  " 

"  It  is  of  his  good  pleasure  that  you  are  here.  For  a 
long  time  we  have  sought  for  you  —  my  husband  and  I. 
He  has  taken  great  pains  to  find  you." 

Madeline  raised  herself  up,  and  turned  to  Mrs.  Lawrence 
with  a  look  of  puzzled  inquiry  on  her  face. 

"  I  do  not  just  understand  this,"  she  said. 

"Why  should  Mr.  Lawrence  take  ail  interest  in  me  ? 
It  was  not  so  in  the  years  gone  by." 


OUT    IN    THE   WORLD.  293 

"  Time  works  changes  in  us  all,"  Mrs.  Lawrence  answer 
ed,  with  slight  evasion,  "  and  my  husband  has  changed." 

Madeline  showed,  by  the  way  in  which  she  looked  at 
Mrs.  Lawrence,  that  she  was  far  from  being  satisfied.  Not 
seeing  the  way  clear  for  pursuing  this  subject,  Mrs.  Law 
rence  changed  it  by  saying  — 

"  Another  time,  when  you  are  strong  enough  to  help 
yourself,  and  go  out,  we  will  talk  of  this  again.  It  would 
be  fruitless  now."  Then,  after  a  little  pause,  "  I've  wanted 
to  know  how  it  has  been  with  you  in  the  long  years  that 
have  passed  since  you  went  out  from  your  home  and  friends, 
with  such  a  daring  and  desperate  spirit,  to  walk  through 
the  world  alone." 

Madeline  did  not  answer. 

"  If  it  would  be  very  painful  to  uncover  this  past,"  ad 
ded  Mrs.  Lawrence,  "  do  not  lift  the  veil.  If  the  book  is 
shut,  do  not  open  it  again." 

"  I  have  shut  the  book,  and  would  not  open  it  again  ; 
for,  to  open  it,  would  be  to  live  over  what  I  have  not 
strength  to  bear,"  replied  Madeline.  "  No  doubt  the  dis 
cipline  was  needed.  It  was  hard  —  very  hard  —  this 
lonely,  friendless  life,  out  in  the  wilderness,  with  beasts  of 
prey  all  around  me,  thirsting  for  innocent  blood.  But,  out 
of  it,  in  God's  providence,  I  have  come,  a  purer  and  better 
woman,  I  think,  and  fitter  for  heaven.  It  may  be,  that  the 
end  would  not  have  been  as  well  for  me,  if  I  had  walked 
with  beauty  and  brightness  —  cared  for  and  housed  amid 
luxuries.  There  may  have  been  that  in  me  which  needed, 
for  correction,  all  I  have  suffered.  I  know  not.  But  this 
I  know,  that  God  has  not  permitted  my  wilfulness  to  work 
out  destruction.  In  my  distresses,  I  turned  to  Him,  and 
he  often  gave  light  and  even  comfort.  He  was  my  defence 


294  OUT   IN    THE   WORLD. 

on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left.  In  sorest  trials  and 
temptations,  He  did  not  suffer  my  feet  to  be  moved. 

"  What  has  troubled  me  deepest  at  times,"  she  continued, 
*'  is  the  evil  consequences  to  another  that  have  followed 
my  ill-considered  act." 

Her  voice  trembled  ;  she  shut  her  eyes,  and  kept  silence 
for  a  few  moments.  Then  resumed  with  a  singular  calm 
ness,  considering  the  subject  and  her  weakness  — 

"  And  yet,  to  both,  it  may  be,  that  the  painful  discipline 
was  needed.  Life,  in  this  world,  is  as  nothing  to  the  dur 
ation  of  life  in  the  next ;  and  all  pain  and  suffering  here, 
if  they  help  us  to  put  aside  the  things  that  would  stand 
in  the  way  of  our  happiness  through  eternity,  are  to  be 
considered  blessings  in  disguise.  To  this  view,  my  mind 
has  been,  for  some  time,  gradually  rising.  We  cannot 
stand  alone  in  this  world ;  we  cannot  act  for  ourselves 
alone.  No  deed  is  fruitless  of  consequences ;  and  the  con 
sequences  rarely,  if  ever,  limit  themselves  to  the  individual 
actor.  So,  in  our  passion  and  our  pride,  as  well  as  in  our 
love  and  humility,  God  makes  of  us  instruments  for  good  ; 
and  where  our  work  is  evil  in  the  present,  he  controls  the 
results  and  turns  them  into  benefits.  So,  even  in  self- 
condemnation,  I  find  a  degree  of  comfort." 

The  pale  cheeks  of  Madeline  were  beginning  to  flnsh, 
and  her  eyes  to  grow  unnaturally  bright.  Mrs.  Lawrence 
took  her  hand  and  found  that  it  was  trembling. 

"  Your  thought  is  too  strong  for  your  body,"  she  said  ; 
"  and  you  must  let  it  rest.  I  understand  you  clearly  ;  and 
believe  that  you  have  solved  the  question  aright.  What 
we  do,  may  seem  to  hurt  another  —  nay,  may  hurt  him  in 
some  degree  of  his  life ;  but  God's  wise  and  unerring  prov 
idence  will  cause  the  hurt  of  a  lower  degree,  to  become  the 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  295 

minister  of  good  to  some  higher  degree  of  the  mind.  And 
so,  where  blindly,  or  of  set  purpose,  we  have  wrought  a 
present  evil,  He  will  work  out  a  future  good." 

"It  must  be  so,"  returned  Madeline.  "  If  God  is  infi 
nitely  good  and  wise,  and  His  providence  over  all,  even  to 
the  minutest  things  of  life  — '  the  very  hairs  of  your  head 
are  numbered'  —  will  he  not  so  control  the  results  of  our 
blindness  and  ignorance  ;  of  our  self-will  and  passion ;  nay, 
even  of  our  evil  purpose,  so  that  real  harm  shall  not  be 
done.  There  may  be  external,  and  apparent  harm ;  harm 
such  as  the  surgeon  effects  in  order  that  a  higher  and  no 
bler  benefit  may  be  secured  ;  but  it  will  be  as  nothing  to 
the  good  results.  '  For,'  in  the  words  of  Paul, '  our  light 
affliction,  which  is  but  for  a  moment,  worketh  for  us  a  far 
more  exceeding,  and  eternal  weight  of  glory.'  It  is  only 
through  tribulation,  that  some  of  us  can  be  purified ;  and 
they  through  whose  agency  we  suffer  tribulation,  become 
really  the  ministers  of  blessing." 

"  I  can  give  you  no  lessons,  my  dear  friend,  in  this 
school,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence.  "  There  was  a  time,  when 
I  might  have  been  your  teacher ;  but  you  have  learned 
from  a  better  Instructor.  Keep  near  to  His  side.  Trust 
in  Him,  and  recognize  His  providence  in  your  presence 
here,  as  much  as  in  any  other  event  of  your  life.  While 
we  live,  our  lives  affect  other  lives.  You  have  not  ceased 
to  act  upon  others.  Your  work  is  not  yet  done.  Not  by 
any  purpose  of  yours  are  you  here  to-day.  The  hand  of 
Providence,  that  led  you,  is  not  disguised.  Be  passive, 
then,  and  wait." 

"  You  are  my  teacher,"  replied  Madeline,  with  moisten 
ing  eyes.  "  Wise,  true  friend,  I  will  be  passive  ;  I  will 
wait." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 


FTER  a  certain  degree  of  convales 
cence,  there  came  a  pause  in  Made 
line's  condition.  She  was  able  to  sit 
up  for  a  portion  of  each  day,  and  even 
to  walk  about  her  room ;  but,  there  im 
provement  stopped. 

"  I  am  so  weak,  doctor,"  she  said  one 
day,  early  in  the  spring,  to  her  physi- 
'1/X  /^j.  \  "*    cian,  who  found  her  in  bed  instead  of 
\5  |^u  sitting  up.     She  spoke  in  a  tone  of 

<c*          discouragement. 

"The  warm  season  will  soon  be  here,"  he  replied. 
"  Fresh  air,  and  change,  and  exercise,  will  benefit  won 
derfully.  At  the  first  mild  change  in  the  weather,  you 
must  ride  out." 

A  shadow  came  over  her  face.  She  sighed,  and  partly 
turned  away. 

"  Are  you  so  anxious  to  get  well  ?  "  said  the  doctor. 
"  I  shall  never  be  welt  again,"  replied  Madeline. 
f  "  Don't  say  that.    You  will  find  new  life  and  health  in 


OUT   IN    THE    WOULD.  297 

the  warm  summer  breezes.  As  soon  as  the  spring  is  well 
advanced,  and  you  can  ride  out  every  day,  your  strength 
will  come  rapidly.  I  shall  order  you  sent  into  the  coun 
try  as  early  as  the  middle  of  June. 

"Doctor  Wheatland,"  said  Madeline,  turning  towards 
the  physician,  and  taking  his  hand.  She  looked  at  him 
with  a  sober  expression  of  countenance — "You  talk  to 
me  as  if  I  had  a  right  to  be  here  —  as  if  I  were  mistress 
of  the  house,  and  not  a  helpless,  penniless  stranger,  living 
day  by  day  on  charity.  I  have  no  carriage  or  servants." 

"Not  a  penniless  stranger!  —  not  living  on  charity!" 
replied  the  doctor,  with  a  warmth  of  manner  that  caused 
a  gleam  of  surprise  to  pass  over  Madeline's  face. 

"  You  speak  in  an  unknown  language,  Doctor  Wheat- 
land,"  she  said. 

"  You  understand  my  words  ?  " 

"  I  understand  what  your  words  mean,  but  not  as  applied 
to  myself.  As  you  utter  them,  they  have  no  significance.'' 

"  On  the  contrary,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  they  have  the 
fullest  significance.  You  are  not  a  penniless  stranger  in 
this  house,  nor  living  day  by  day  on  charity.  Lay  that  up 
in  your  heart,  and  so  far  as  the  question  of  independence 
is  concerned,  be  at  peace." 

"  I  cannot  understand  you,  doctor."  The  pale  face  of- 
Madeline  was  beginning  to  grow  warm  from  rising  excite 
ment.  There  was  a  look  of  startled  inquiry  in  her  eyes, 
and  a  shade  of  alarm  as  at  the  approach  of  something  that 
would  give  pain. 

"My  dear  madam,"  said  the  doctor,  with  impressive 
earnestness  of  manner,  "  put  faith  in  what  I  say,  and,  for 
the  present,  while  you  are  weak  and  helpless,  give  your- 
13* 


298  OUT   IN    THE    WORLD. 

self  no  fruitless  trouble.  All  is  right.  You  owe  nothing 
to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lawrence,  but  love  and  gratitude." 

"  Still  the  unknown  tongue,"  she  answered.  "  Will  you 
not  speak  in  a  language  that  my  thought  can  reach  ?  " 

Doctor  Wheatland  found  himself  in  a  delicate  position, 
In  the  effort  to  give  repose  to  the  mind  of  his  patient,  he 
had  only  disturbed  her  deeply.  She  was  not  to  be  satis 
fied  with  these  general  assurances. 

"  You  are  neither  poor  nor  friendless,"  he  said,  slowly 
and  calmly.  "There  has  been  along  search  for  you,  in 
order  that  you  might  be  placed  in  possession  of  property 
justly  your  own.  It  is  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Lawrence,  in 
trust,  and  subject  to  your  disposal.  I  can  only  say  this 
to  you  now.  Let  your  mind  be  at  rest,  then.  Put  aside 
the  thought  of  dependence.  When  you  are  better  and 
stronger,  you  can  ask  more  questions.  As  your  physician 
I  must  assert  my  authority  here." 

The  flush  went  out  of  Madeline's  face,  and  with  it  the 
ardor  of  inquiry.  Her  thought  looked  inward.  A  new 
fact,  which  was  to  effect  all  her  future  life,  had  been  com 
municated.  What  was  the  broad  significance  of  that 
fact  ?  Property  in  her  own  right !  A  long  search  !  Mr. 
Lawrence  the  trustee !  Under  the  pressure  of  so  strange 
a  communication,  there  fell  upon  her  spirit  a  deep  calm. 
Not  a  pause  in  thought,  but  a  cessation  of  all  excitement. 

As  if  she  had  said  to  herself — "I  must  be  still — I 
must  look  at  this  communication  on  all  sides,  and  see 
what  it  means." 

What  it  really  did  mean,  her  quick  instincts  had  already 
suggested.  Was  she  pained,  or  pleased?  —  indignant  or 
gratified  ?  Doctor  Wheatland  endeavored  to  look  down 
into  her  state  of  mind,  but  was  not  able. 


OUT   IN    THE    WORLD.  299 

"  I  am  scarcely  strong  enough  for  this,"  she  murmured. 

"  You  are  not  strong  enough,"  replied  the  doctor ;  "  and 
so,  I  must  insist  upon  it,  that  you  ask  no  more  questions. 
This  is,  for  the  present,  your  home  —  in  right  as  well  as 
in  love.  Mr.  Lawrence  is  both  friend  and  guardian. 

When  health  returns,  it  will  be  time  enough  for  you  to 
question  farther,  and  act  as  your  judgment  and  sense  of 
right  may  determine." 

What  passed  in  Madeline's  thoughts  was  not  communi 
cated.  The  doctor  saw  that  her  mind  was  absorbed. 

"  I  will  see  you  again  to-morrow,"  he  said,  rising  to  go. 

"  One  thing,  doctor." 

«  What  is  it  ?  " 

"Neither  Mr.  nor  Mrs.  Lawrence  has  given  me  the 
slightest  intimation  of  this." 

"  I  am  aware  of  it,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"  I  would  rather  not  have  them  know  that  I  have  been 
informed." 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  desire." 

«  Thank  you." 

The  doctor  lingered,  but  Madeline  said  nothing  more. 

After  this  it  was  noticed  by  Mrs.  Lawrence  that  Made 
line  had  passed  into  a  new  state  of  mind.  She  was  more 
tranquil  and  indrawn  ;  and  less  inclined  to  conversation. 

Before,  there  had  been  a  looking  forward  to  the  warm 
summer  days,  and  to  periods  in  the  future,  accompanied 
by  a  certain  uneasiness  born  of  uncertainty.  All  this 
vague  unrest  was  gone  now.  Peace  seemed  to  have  fold 
ed  her  pinions. 

"  I'm  afraid,"  said  Mrs.  Lawrence,  on  meeting  Doctor 
Wheatland,  a  few  days  afterwards,  "that  Madeline  is  los 
ing  instead  of  gaining.  I'm  sure  she  is  weaker  to-day 
than  she  was  a  fortnight  ago." 


300  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

Doctor  Wheatland  looked  serious,  but  did  not  respond. 

"  Don't  you  see  a  change  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Lawrence. 

"  In  what  respect  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  see  that  she  is  failing  ?  " 

"  I  can  hardly  say  that  she  is  gaining,"  replied  the  doc 
tor. 

"  She  seems  all  at  once,  to  have  lost  her  interest  in  life," 
said  Mrs.  Lawrence.  "  Last  week  she  was  troubling  her 
self  about  the  future,  and  showing  a  restless  sense  of  ob 
ligation.  But,  this  state  has  passed  from  her  as  complete 
ly  as  if  her  life  were  a  dream." 

The  doctor  stood  silent. 

"  I  don't  like  her  present  state." 

"  Why  not,  Mrs.  Lawrence  ?  " 

"  Evidently,  life  is  receding." 

"You  think  so?" 

"  Am  I  not  right  in  my  apprehension  ?  "  Mrs.  Lawrence 
sought  to  read  the  doctor's  face. 

"  There  has  come,  seemingly,  a  pause  in  the  tide  of 
life,"  answered  the  physician.  "  It  may  flow  on  again ;  or 
it  may  recede.  Better,  perhaps,  that  it  should  recede." 

"  Doctor  Wheatland ! " 

"  Better,  assuredly,  if  it  be  God's  will.  All  the  issues 
of  life  are  in  his  hands." 

"I  cannot  think  of  this,  doctor.  After  the  long  night 
through  which  she  has  passed,  does  it  not  seem  hard  that 
she  should  die  at  daybreak  ?  " 

"  And  rise  into  the  beauty,  and  brightness,  and  joy  of 
an  eternal  morning,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Then  you  think  her  case  hopeless ! "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Lawrence. 

"  I  cannot  tell  what  may  be  the  healing  influences  of 


OUT   IN    THE    WOKLD.  301 

nature,  when  the  air  is  filled  with  summer  sweetness ; 
but,  in  medicine,  I  find  little  to  give  encouragement. 
There  is  scarcely  any  response  to  the  remedies  I  adminis 
ter." 

When  the  doctor  went  away,  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Law 
rence  was  heavier  than  when  he  came.  She  had  looked 
to  him  to  strengthen  her  failing  hopes,  and  he  had  only 
removed  another  stay,  and  left  them  weaker. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 


PRING  was  advancing  towards  sum 
mer.  It  was  early  in  June.  There 
had.  been  a  few  warm  days  in  May, 
and  under  the  doctor's  advice,  Made 
line  had  taken  advantage  of  them  to 
ride  out.  But,  the  effort  and  excite 
ment  drew  too  heavily  on  her  strength. 
She  came  back  exhausted,  and  did  not 
react  from  the  fatigue,  as  well  as  the 
doctor  had  hoped. 
"  The  promise  of  spring  has  failed,"  she  said,  smiling 
feebly.  Mrs.  Lawrence  was  sitting  by  her,  as  she  lay  on  a 
sofa  in  the  parlor,  after  one  of  these  drives.  She  had  not 
sufficient  strength  to  walk  up  stairs,  after  coming  in  from 
the  carriage,  and  rested  in  the  parlor  until  she  could  gain 
a  little  for  the  effort. 

"  Oh,  no,"  quickly  answered  her  friend. 
"The  soft,  warm  air  comes  gratefully  to  my  cheeks.     I 
look  upon  the  greenness  and  beauty  of  nature,  and  it  re 
freshes  my  soul.    But,  new  life  does  not  flush  my  veins. 
The  pulses  are  quickened ;  but  only  from  fever." 


OUT   IN   TUB   WORLD.  303 

Tears  filled  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  Lawrence.  Her  heart  was 
so  burdened  that  she  could  not  reply.  Madeline  contin 
ued  — 

"  I  shall  go  from  you  in  a  little  while,  dear  friend !  The 
struggle  is  over.  After  a  year  of  pain,  I  have  ease  —  after 
wearying  toil,  I  am  at  rest  —  after  the  bitterness  of  a  long 
strife,  there  is  peace.  I  lie  awake,  sometimes,  for  hours,  in 
the  night,  thinking  over  the  past,  and  looking  at  the  pres 
ent.  The  road  along  which  I  journeyed  led  me  down  into 
gloomy  vales ;  through  wildernesses,  where  dwelt  all  man 
ner  of  evil  beasts ;  over  rocky  and  barren  places.  I  have 
had  sorrow,  and  repentance,  and  pain  that  seemed  more 
than  human  strength  could  bear.  But,  God  has  brought 
my  feet  at  last  into  a  plain  way.  The  ground  is  soft  be 
neath  them.  The  air  is  filled  with  light  and  fragrance. 

o  o 

The  journey  is  over,  and  looking  down  into  my  heart,  I  can 
say  in  truth,  that  it  has  been  better  for  me  that  I  have 
suffered.  For  the  rest,  God's  love  and  wisdom  are  infinite. 
I  shall  no  longer  afflict  my  soul  with  the  question  — '  What 
might  have  been  ? '  Out  of  what  is,  I  will  seek  to  draw 
the  highest  comfort." 

From  that  time,  a  loss  of  strength  was  perceived,  daily. 
Madeline  never  rode  out  again. 

About  the  middle  of  June,  Mr.  Lawrence  received  a  note 
from  Mr.  Jansen,  asking  him  to  call,  and  mentioning  a 
certain  hour  when  he  would  be  alone.  Mr.  Lawrence 
could  scarcely  repress  an  exclamation  of  surprise  when  he 
entered  the  invalid's  presence.  Elsewhere,  he  would 
scarcely  have  recognized  the  wan  and  wasted  face,  that 
met  him.  The  hand  he  took  gave  back  only  a  feeble  pres 
sure. 

"  You  see,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  going  rapidly." 


304  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

While  Mr.  Lawrence  was  hesitating  on  the  words  of 
his  answer,  Mr.  Jansen  asked,  with  an  interest  not  to  be 
repressed  — 

"  How  is  Madeline  ?  " 

"Failing,"  was  answered. 

"  Does  she  go  out  ?  " 

"  No.     She  is  too  weak  for  that." 

«  Does  she  sit  up  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  for  two  or  three  hours  at  a  time." 

"  You  think  her  failing  ?  " 

"Yes.  The  doctor  has  no  hope  of  her  recovery.  She 
may  linger  for  a  while  —  how  long  is  uncertain." 

"  What  is  her  state  of  mind  ?  " 

"  She  is  very  peaceful  —  waiting  for  the  end." 

Mr.  Jansen  clasped  his  hands  together,  and  shut  his  eyes. 
There  was  a  glow  of  thankfulness  in  his  countenance. 

"  The  long  night  of  suffering  is  over.  The  pain  all 
gone ! "  he  murmured,  with  satisfaction. 

"Yes,  all  gone,"  said  Mr.  Lawrence. 

"  I  have  sent  for  you  to  ask  a  favor  —  a  great  favor." 
The  face  of  Mr.  Jansen  grew  earnest. 

"  You  will  not  deny  me  ?  " 

"  Say  on."    Mr.  Jansen  had  paused. 

"  I  want  to  see  Madeline.  Now  don't  say  no  !  I  must 
see  her  before  I  die.  Oh,  Mr.  Lawrence ! "  —  and  the  sick 
man  trembled  with  excitement  —  "  you  cannot  know  how 
I  am  pining  just  to  look  once  again  into  her  face.  Maybe 
it  is  wrong ;  but,  I  am  to  weak  too  discuss  that  question. 
I  dream  of  her  every  night;  I  think  of  her  all  day  —  all 
night  and  all  day  in  my  loneliness !  I  say  loneliness,  Mr. 
Lawrence.  Perhaps  you  understand  me." 

Mr.  Lawrence  dropped  his  eyes  to  the  floor.    Mr.  Jan- 


OUT   IN   THE   WORLD.  305 

sen,  who  was  reading  his  face  eagerly,  saw  disapproval 
there.  The  sick  man  leaned  towards  him  — 

"  Just  once !  Only  once."  The  pleading  of  his  tone 
was  touching  in  its  eloquence. 

"  It  might  not  be  right,"  answered  Mr.  Lawrence.  "  It 
would  not  be  right ! "  he  added  more  firmly.  "  The  peace 
of  Madeline  must  not  be  so  disturbed.  It  would  be  a 
violence  to  her  state  —  a  great  wrong.  She  is  in  rest  and 
tranquillity,  waiting  for  the  end.  Oh,  no,  no,  Mr.  Jansen ! 
It  cannot  be  ! " 

"You  are  right  as  to  Madeline.  I  do  not  ask  an  inter 
view  ;  I  do  not  desire  it.  Even  if  both  of  us  had  strength 
to  bear  it,  the  act  would  be  wrong.  I  recognize  this." 

"  What  then,"  said  Mr.  Lawrence. 

"  It  might  be  arranged  so  that  I  could  see  her." 

"How?" 

"  She  is  able  to  sit  up  ?  " 

"  Yes,  for  short  periods  at  a  time." 

"  She  would  not  know  me,  I  am  so  changed.  I  could 
ride  past,  and  look  upon  her  if  she  were  at  the  window. 
This  is  all  I  meant." 

After  a  little  reflection,  Mr.  Lawrence  said  — 

"  Are  you  strong  enough  ?  " 

u  Oh,  I'll  risk  ail  that!  "  answered  the  sick  man. 

«  Do  you  ride  out  ?  " 

"I  haven't  been  out  for  two  or  three  weeks.  But,  you 
know  the  weather  has  not  been  favorable." 

"I  will  think  it  over,"  said  Mr.  Lawrence. 

Mr.  Jansen  laid  his  white,  almost  transparent  hand,  on 
the  arm  of  Mr.  Lawrence,  and  spoke  with  considerable 
eagerness  — 

"  My  dear  sir  the  sword  is  cutting  into  the  scabbard  ! 


306  OUT   IN   THE   WOKLD. 

For  a  long  time,  I  have  resisted  this  desire  to  see  Made 
line  ;  but,  I  have  not  the  strength  of  will  to  put  it  from 
me  any  longer.  It  is  so  strong  that  it  is  exhausting  me. 
Our  days  are  numbered  —  hers  and  mine.  She  is  declin 
ing  peacefully  —  thank  God,  that  I  have  been  instrumen 
tal  in  affording  that  peace! — while  my  day  is  going  out, 
dark  and  dreary.  To  look  into  her  face,  will  be  just  so 
much  of  sunlight.  You  can  bring  it  to  pass  if  you  will." 

"  I  will  put  no  hindrances  in  your  way,"  answered  Mr. 
Lawrence,  who  was  considei'ably  moved. 

"  If  to-morrow  is  a  fair  day,  I  will  ride  out,"  said  Mr. 
Jansen. 

"  But  are  you  strong  enough  ?  Can  you  bear  the  fa 
tigue  ?  " 

"I  shall  be  strong  enough  —  no  fear  of  that!"  he  an 
swered,  quickly.  "All  I  ask  is,  that  you  have  Madeline 
so  placed  at  the  window  that  I  can  look  into  her  face  as  I 
ride  slowly  by.  She  will  not  know  me ;  and  therefore  no 
harm  will  be  done.  Her  soul  will  remain  peaceful ;  and 
mine  will  be  satisfied.  The  thirsty  lips  of  my  spirit  will 
bend  to  a  spring  of  water." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


HE  day  following  was  bright  and 
balmy ;  the  air  soft  and  warm.  Made 
line  felt  its  influence,  and  as  the  morn 
ing  advanced  towards  noon,  had  her 
chair  drawn  to  the  open  window,  the 
sash  of  which  came  down  to  the  floor. 
At  one  o'clock,  Mr.  Jansen  was  to  go 
by  in  an  open  carriage.  Mr.  Lawrence 
was  to  call  for  him ;  and  it  was  arrang 
ed  that  he  (Mr.  Lawrence,  should  leave 
the  carriage  at  the  entrance  of  the 
block,  and  join  it  again  as  soon  as  it  turned  the  corner  of 
the  next  cross  street. 

On  calling  for  Mr.  Jansen  at  the  time  agreed  upon  Mr. 
Lawrence  found  him  alone,  his  wife  having  gone  out  on 
her  daily  round  of  visits.  He  did  not  look  so  pale  as  on 
the  day  before.  Ardor  of  feeling  gave  quicker  and  strong 
er  pulsations  to  his  heart,  and  actually  touched  his  cheeks 
with  color. 

"  Do  you  feel  strong  enough  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Lawrence,  as 


308  OUT  IN   THE   WOELD. 

he  took  the  hand  of  Mr.  Jansen,  and  felt  it  thrill  within 
his  own. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  replied,  quickly.  "  I  have  not  felt  so 
toned  up  for  weeks.  Is  all  arranged  ?  Will  she  be  at 
the  window  ?  " 

"Yes." 

He  was  very  eager,  and  as  they  went  down  stairs,  Mr. 
Lawrence  had  to  bear  him  back  gently  and  retard  his 
hasty  steps.  On  reaching  the  pavement,  his  strength  was 
nearly  gone,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  he  could  sup 
port  his  own  weight  to  the  carriage.  It  was  an  open  ba 
rouche,  with  extra  cushions,  among  which  he  sunk  back> 
on  entering,  while  a  sudden  paleness  overspread  his  face. 

"  I'm  afraid  this  is  too  much  for  yoii,"  said  Mr.  Law 
rence,  half  repenting  his  acquiescence  in  Mr.  Jansen's 
wishes. 

"  Oh,  no !  no !  It  will  pass  over  in  an  instant,"  -was  re 
plied. 

Mr.  Lawrence  got  into  the  carriage,  and  the  vehicle 
moved  slowly  away.  No  farther  word  passed  between 
them.  At  the  entrance  of  the  block  in  which  he  lived 
Mr.  Lawrence  left  the  barouche. 

"  You  know  the  house,"  he  said. 

«  Yes." 

"  I  will  join  you  in  the  next  street." 

There  was,  now,  no  signs  of  agitation  about  Mr.  Jansen. 
He  was  calm  and  indrawn,  with  a  certain  brightness  of 
countenance  which  Mr.  Lawrence  had  never  before  seen. 
He  lay  back  among  the  cushions,  with  his  face  a  little  ele 
vated. 

In  less  than  five  minutes,  Mr.  Lawrence  was  again  by 
his  side. 


OUT    IN    THE   WORLD.  309 

you  see  her  ?  " 

He  had  taken  the  sick  man's  hand  on  entering  the  car 
riage. 

"  Yes."  There  was  a  quick,  strong  pressure  on  the  hand 
of  Mr.  Lawrence. 

Mr.  Jansen  said  no  more,  and  Mr.  Lawrence  would  not 
disturb  him  with  questions.  When  they  reached  home, 
Mr.  Jansen's  strength  was  all  gone.  On  getting  down 
from  the  barouche,  his  limbs  sunk  under  him,  and  he  had 
to  be  carried  to  his  room.  A  little  wine  revived  him. 

"This  has  been  all  wrong,  I  fear,"  said  Mr.  Lawrence. 
The  only  reply  was  a  smile  of  satisfaction. 

"I  think,"  said  Mr.  Lawrence,  to  one  of  the  servants, 
as  he  was  about  leaving  the  house,  "  that  you  had  better 
send  for  the  doctor.  This  ride  has  exhausted  him  consid 
erably." 

The  servant  promised  to  do  so,  and  Mr.  Lawrence  went 
away.  He  was  not  at  ease  in  his  mind.  In  yielding  to 
Mr.  Jansen's  wishes,  he  had  felt  that  the  ground  they 
were  about  to  tread  was  hardly  safe ;  and  so  doubts  had 
continually  intruded  themselves.  From  Mr.  Jansen,  his 
thought  now  turned  to  Madeline.  Had  the  recognition 

o  o 

been  mutual  ?  And  if  so,  what  had  been  the  effect  ? 
With  such  thoughts  and  questionings  in  his  mind,  Mr. 
Lawrence  walked  homeward.  His  wife  met  him  with  a 
serious  face. 

«  What  of  Madeline  ?  "  he  asked. 

"I  can  hardly  answer  the  question,"  was  replied. 

"  Did  she  recognize  Mr.  Jansen  ?  " 

"  I  think  so." 

"What  was  the  effect?    Tell  me  all  about  it." 

They  sat  down,  and  Mrs.  Lawrence  said  — 


310  OUT   IN    THE    WOULD. 

"  As  the  time  approached  when  Mr.  Janscn  was  to  go 
by,  I  began  to  feel  very  nervous.  Madeline  had  been  sit 
ting  up  for  a  long  time,  and  I  was  fearful  that  her  strength 
would  give  way.  But,  she  was  unusually  bright,  and  en 
joyed  the  air  and  sunshine.  It  may  be,  that  my  state  of 
mind  affected  hers,  for  as  one  o'clock  drew  near,  she  became 
quiet  and  thoughtful.  She  had  been  musing  for  some 
minutes,  when  she  looked  up  at  me,  and  remarked,  in  a 
grave,  half  wondering  way,  '  I  have  a  singular  kind  of  an 
impression,  Jessie  ;  as  if  I  were  going  to  see  a  stranger, 
and  yet  not  a  stranger.'  We  heard  the  bell  ring  at  the  mo 
ment.  '  There,'  she  said,  and  leaned,  listening,  as  Ellen 
went  to  the  door.  She  almost  held  her  breath.  '  Who  is 
it  ? '  I  asked  of  Ellen,  who  came  up  with  a  card  in  her 
hand.  '  Mrs.  Jordan.'  I  answered  my  own  question,  as  I 
took  the  card.  'Say  to  her  that  I  am  particularly  en 
gaged  this  morning,  and  must  ask  to  be  excused.'  As 
Ellen  turned  to  leave  the  room,  I  looked  at  Madeline. 
The  light  had  gone  out  of  her  face. 

" '  Why,  Madeline  ! '  I  exclaimed,  '  did  you  really  put 
such  a  strong  faith  in  this  impression  ?  ' 

"  She  smiled  and  tried  to  rally  herself. 

"  '  The  impression  is  here,  and  I  cannot  remove  it,'  she 
answered. 

"In  a  little  while  she  grew  very  calm  and  sweet- 
There  was  a  spiritual  elevation  in  her  eyes,  and  a  tender 
ness  about  her  mouth,  that  was  inexpressible.  I  said  to 
myself — 'Angels  are  with  her.'  She  looked  up  at  the 
sky,  which  was  of  the  softest  blue,  and  singularly  translu 
cent,  then  back  into  my  face,  saying — 'Heaven  is  not 
very  far  off.  We  just  go  to  sleep,  like  tired  children,  and 
'waken  on  the  othev  side.' 


OUT   IN   THE    WORLD.  311 

"Tears  came  into  my  eyes.  I  could  not  keep  them 
back.  It  was  now  only  a  few  minutes  to  one  o'clock. 
With  difficulty  I  repressed  the  agitation  that  was  steadily 
increasing.  I  had  moved  her  chair  so  that  she  could  look 
in  the  direction  from  which  Mr.  Jan  sen  was  to  come 
Presently  I  heard  the  sound  of  wheels  approaching  slow 
ly.  My  heart  seemed  to  stand  still.  We  had  ceased  talk 
ing.  Madeline  was  looking  out  of  the  window  —  I  put 
my  hands  upon  her  chair,  and  pushed  her  closer  to  the 
open  casement.  At  that  instant  Mr.  Jansen  came  in  sight. 
He  reclined  a  little  back,  with  his  head  against  a  cushion 
which  had  been  elevated  in  the  carriage,  and  his  eyes 
fixed  on  Madeline.  I  noticed  a  slight  movement  on  her 
part,  as  if  she  had  repressed  a  sudden  emotion.  I  could 
not  see  her  countenance.  No  sign  of  recognition  was  made 
by  Mr.  Jansen.  His  face  was  white  and  still,  and  his  eyes 
resting  steadily  on  Madeline.  He  turned  his  head  just  a 
little,  as  the  carriage  moved  by,  as  if  to  prolong  the  vision 
that  was  before  him. 

"  The  moment  he  Avas  past,  I  saw  Madeline  shrink  in 
her  chair,  as  though  overstrained  nerves  had  given  way. 
I  spoke  to  her,  but  she  did  not  reply.  I  drew  her  back 
from  the  window,  and  saw  that  her  long  lashes  had  fallen 
upon  her  cheeks.  There  lingered  on  her  countenance  a 
look  of  half  painful  surprise,  though  the  sweetness  had 
not  departed  from  her  lips.  '  You  hare  been  sitting  up 
too  long,  I  said,  and  wheeled  her  chair  hastily  across  the 
room.  She  made  no  resistance,  as  I  drew  off  the  wrapper 
in  which  she  had  been  dressed,  and  got  her  into  bed. 
Not  a  word  escaped  from  her  lips.  Her  lashes  lay  tremb- 
lirig  on  her  cheeks,  and  as  her  head  touched  the  pillow, 
she  shut  her  eyes  closely  and  turned  her  face  aAvay.  Since 
then,  she  has  neither  moved  nor  spoken." 


312  OUT   IN   THE   WORLD. 

"  She  recognized  him,"  said  Mr.  Lawrence. 

"  Yes ;  I  am  sure  of  it." 

"  And,  as  I  feared,  the  shock  has  been  too  much  for  her. 
I  was   wrong  to  have   permitted  this.     I  felt  that  it 
would  be  wrong  from  the  beginning." 

"You  had  no  selfish  end  to  gain  replied  Mrs.  Lawrence. 
"You  tried  to  serve  another.  What  may  seem  an  evil 
result  to  our  limited  vision,  may  be  only  the  completion 
of  some  higher  good.  They  are  both  in  God's  hands." 

And  they  passed  to  God.  That  bright  June  day,  on 
which  they  had  looked  once  more  into  each  other's  faces, 
went  down  serene  and  cloudless ;  but  their  eyes  did  not 
see  its  evening  beauty. 

When  day  broke  again,  two  white  faces,  and  two 
shrouded  forms,  lay  in  separate  dwellings,  far  apart,  and 
there  was  no  external  bond  between  them.  But,  in  the 
new  morning  that  broke  for  their  chastened  souls,  who 
will  say  that  they  stood  not  close  together? 


THE    END. 


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